


Cold Spell In Asgard

by potatowrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Freely interpreted Norse Myth thrown into the mix, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Mild Blood, Minor Character Death, Sif got herself in Jotunheim and brought Loki to Asgard with him, Slow Burn, Teenage Sif, Where Odin didn't pick up baby Loki, teenage loki, teenage thor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-21 17:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17646947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatowrites/pseuds/potatowrites
Summary: Loki seeks asylum in Asgard, but finds blending in very hard.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a sequel to my previous fic, Fire In Jotunheim. Please read that first to make any sense of what's about to happen. 
> 
> Great big thanks to @silvergryphon for helping me come up with the title for this one, and helping me with English grammar and wording!

_Odin looked down at the crying baby. It was a sorry sight, a feeble and fragile thing tossed in the snow. If the soft wailing hadn't caught Odin's attention, he would have dismissed it as nothing but bundle of rags, thrown away in haste._

_He was about to kneel and pick the child up when one of the Einherjar approached him. The man didn't even notice the child, and Odin placed himself between the two to keep it that way._

“ _Sire, we have the Casket. The slain Asgardians have been gathered,” the man said. “Bifrost is ready to take us back.”_

_Odin didn't recognise this one. So many of the Einherjar had fallen on these frozen fields, others taking their place in ranks as needed._

“Asvald, _” whispered Muninn to his ear, ready fill in the blanks._

“ _Good man, Asvald. Any sign of King Laufey or his family?” Odin asked._

“ _Last seen retreating across the Great Glacier. He was accompanied by his son and some warriors, and we think they were carrying someone wounded with them,” the Einherjar reported. He moved anxiously, undoubtedly not wanting spend a moment longer in the cold and just waiting to follow Odin and leave this frozen miserable place._

“ _No sight of the Queen?” Odin pressed._

“ _It might have been her they were carrying. It's so hard to tell with these... creatures,” the Einherjar picked the most polite phrasing he could come with while in company of his King. Odin knew how his men addressed the Jotun. Monsters. Beasts._

_The child behind him had gone still. If it had just grown tired, or simply succumbed to the final inevitability, Odin couldn't tell. But he couldn't turn around to check. The Einherjar wouldn't see a child, it would see a to-be monster. No Asgardian would ever accept a Jotun among them. It would be kinder to let the child perish, as per the laws of his own people._

“ _Bifrost awaits. Let us return home, victorious,” Odin said and walked away._

 

 

So this was how Loki would die. He would die by the hand of this young god. Even if he had time to summon his magic or even raise his arms in defence, it would be futile because it was like a storm cloud descending upon him; you could fight, you could try and hide, but it would come and engulf you in its rage.

And then Thor Odinson stopped and raised his hand only to offer it to Loki, who was so struck by the sudden case of not dying that he took it. Loki felt his bones grind against each other in the crushing grip.

“I heard what you did for Lady Sif!” Prince of Asgard boomed. “She told me herself the entire ordeal you two went through together, and I cannot thank enough you for everything!”

_Surely not for_ everything, Loki thought, thankful that Sif must have left out few choice details. He managed to get back his wits and summoned his most charming smile. It wasn't exactly hard; looking at Thor Odinson, it made anyone want to smile and somehow match all the emotion he was radiating. At least they were equal in height and Loki could meet his eyes with the same level.

“Lady Sif did her own part; I merely helped her with the terrain and few bits of diplomacy,” Loki said, then scolded himself of his modesty. He should exaggerate the good he had done for Sif. But then again, he didn't want to sell her for short. She had saved him as much as he had saved her.

“Nonsense!” Thor placed his hand on Loki's shoulder, and it was like being shaken by an earthquake. It took all of Loki's diplomatic self-control not to squirm away from the overly familiar touch. Odinson meant this in all friendship, so he shouldn't reject it.

“Sif is capable of taking care of herself, but she made clear how dire the situation was,” Thor continued. “You protected her when I wasn't there, and I can't resent a man for it. Man, or a Jotun.”

Thor's wide smile made it clear he meant what he said as a compliment, and Loki swallowed a grimace. He had already faced a hundred little barbs like that, reminding him that the Asgardians didn't see him as a being equal to them. But at least this one was meant well, and he should work with what he was given. If the Crown Prince of Asgard was offering his praise to a Jotun, he should accept with grace.

“I'm glad to hear this, your highness-” Loki begun, but was interrupted by Thor once again grabbing him, this time by the wrist, so that Loki could grab him the same way in return.

“None of this 'your highness', Laufeyson! Lady Sif is one of my dearest friends, and you delivered her back to me.” Thor seemed to be taken by his emotions. “You seek an asylum in Asgard? I grant you that, and I declare, you are like a brother to me from now on!”

Not quite what Loki would have expected, but better than what he could have hoped for. He mirrored Thor's grip on his wrist, putting all his strength in it.

“I am honoured,” Loki said with all the sincerity he could muster. “I accept your offer. Brother.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Is that all you saw?” Odin asked.

“Lady Sif standing with Loki on the old trading point, a wounded Jotun, most likely Helblindi, fleeing, and a battle few miles away from the place,” Heimdall summarised. “Laufey has remained on his throne. Where his mind wanders, I cannot see.”

“Tell me again, why did you pull Loki in through the Bifrost with Lady Sif?” Odin pressed on.

This wasn't a formal interrogation, by all means. The King and the Gatekeeper were in Odin's study, both of them seated while Huginn and Muninn perched on the backrest of Odin's chair. But there was tension in the room.

“Lady Sif was holding hands with Laufeyson. I sensed... comradery.” Heimdall didn't explain himself; he stated a fact. His golden eyes were level with Odin's one blue eye. He wasn't disobedient, or disrespectful, but neither did he seem very concerned about his Kings authority over him.

For a moment the room was silent, just the two of them locked in a stare that wasn't exactly a challenge.

“And when they came through, Lady Sif was quite protective of Laufeyson?” Odin broke the silence.

“I believe she was ready to draw out that sword of hers against anyone who would have tried to harm him,” Heimdall confirmed. 

“Neither was it easy to separate her from him when the arrived here,” Odin added. “I suspected a mind control spell, but Eir is saying she is clear of anything of the sort. Curious, no?”

“Very much so.” Heimdall agreed.

 

 

“Sit still or I will have you restrained.”

Eir's threat wasn't casual. Sif had experience on the matter, and she forced herself lay back.

“I'm _fine_ ,” she tried to argue anyway. Eir wouldn't gag her, most likely. “No frost bite, no broken bones, no poison... Just few scratches and bruises. I'm good to leave!”

“I will be the judge of that,” the healer said and continued to scan over Sif.

Over Eir's shoulder Sif spotted a flash of blond hair. It was Fandral peeking behind the curtain. So far only Thor had been allowed to visit Sif, simply because Eir couldn't physically keep the Prince away from her. Warriors Three had been glared into staying behind though.

Sif had managed to give Thor a short explanation of the most important parts of her adventure, mainly how Loki had saved her many times, and that it was paramount that he would get to stay in Asgard. Sif would make a case of it to Allfather as soon as she was permitted an audience, but in the meantime she trusted Thor to protect Loki. Thor had given his word and as soon as he was certain Sif wasn't going to drop dead any moment, he left to find the Jotun Prince.

“Alright, everything seems to be in order...” Eir begun, and then promptly pushed Sif to lay back on the bed before she could climb off. “You're staying for observation a moment longer. You have exhausted yourself, and I will not have you running around until you've eaten and rested a bit. But I will allow your friends come over, as long as they don't excite you too much.”

Volstagg was the first to push past Eir and grab Sif into a great big bear hug. If some remnants of Jotunheim's cold was still lingering behind, strong arms squeezed it all out of her. Sif patted Volstagg's arm reassuringly.

“How about you let me breath, huh? Volstagg, are you- are you crying?” Sif was baffled.

“I will never forgive myself for brushing you off when you wanted me to join you!” Volstagg hiccuped and wiped his eyes. “Oh, little Sif, I will never leave your side from now on...”

“There, there,” Fandrall came to pat Volstagg's shoulder, gently pulling him away to make room for himself by Sif's bed. By the look on his face, Volstagg had been expressing his guilt quite clearly for the past few days.

“We're all glad to have you back,” Hogun said, circling to the other side of the bed.

Sif smiled up at all of them. It was so good to be surrounded by friends.

 

 

Loki had prepared for all kinds situations: from open hostility to resentful tolerance to schemes to have him killed as soon as Sif was out of sight. What he had not prepared for was the bird-boned Aesir Queen mothering her to death. If it was a ruse to lull him into false sense of security, it was good one. Not only did he feel safe; he wanted to believe Frigga was for real.

First a healer was waiting for Loki to tend to him. Most of his injuries were minor, in Jotunheim no one would have bothered to even look at them. Now he was meticulously studied, and Loki had to almost push the woman away. He suspected she was looking for weaknesses rather than checking his health. But he allowed the woman to give him some kind of salve for the bruises Helblindi had left on his neck. He didn't let her put in on him, though.

Then a bath was arranged for him, a nice cold one. He didn't dare to linger for long, but it did cool him down a little. After carefully sniffing at the salve and testing it on the skin of his ankle, Loki came to the conclusion that it was a simple herbal mix. It did ease the pain on his bruises when he dabbed some on his neck.

Coming out of the bath Loki found his furs gone, and in their stead was a luxurious robe of woven fabric that he didn't recognise. He would have been furious for his clothes if it wasn't for the fact that the robe felt softer than anything he had ever felt against his skin, and cool in the excessive warmth of Asgard.

Once Loki was dressed in what he supposed was decent in Asgard's standards, Queen Frigga came in with several servants in tow. All of them carried bundles of fabric. Loki was offered Asgardian clothing to replace his own clothes. He really didn't know what to think of that. Not only did it feel odd to be dressed in his enemy's fashion, he feared he would suffocate if he covered himself from head to toe like these people did.

Frigga was quick to notice Loki hesitating.

“I will have my seamstress make you any kind of clothing you feel most comfortable with, Prince Loki, but for the moment, please accept some of what I have to offer you. And, perhaps, a spell to ease your discomfort, if you allow...” Her fingers weaved the air in nimble pattern, and Loki felt a cold breeze around him. His eyes grew wide when he realised she was spell-casting, and he quickly raised his own defenses. He had long ago surpassed most magic users in Jotunheim, and was startled when faced with someone who could match him.

Surprise was also evident in Frigga when she sensed Loki's defenses going up, and she ceased her spell-casting immediately.

“Excuse me, I didn't mean to offend you,” she said with an appeasing smile. “I didn't expect you to be so talented. When we have the time, we should get to know each other's skill better.”

If anyone else had said that, Loki would have read that as a challenge, a threat. Not the Queen. She radiated genuine desire to share their knowledge of the arcane.

“In time, yes,” he managed to say, then scolded himself silently. He was better than that. “I apologise too, for I simply was taken by surprise, your highness. Please, it was a pleasant breeze you conjured. I would not refuse, if you were to honour me with it again.”

Much better.

“As you wish, then,” Frigga smiled, and with a smallest twitch of her finger released the spell to flow again.

After trying on several different outfits Loki came to the conclusion that wearing something layered that fully covered him actually insulated him from the oppressing heat. He didn't feel quite comfortable, but at least he wasn't being baked alive anymore.

Once he was fully dressed, Frigga led Loki to the next room. The palace seemed to be made of endless rooms of vast size, held up by enormous carved pillars joining up to the arched ceilings. Gold was everywhere, its shine reminding Loki of how light reflected off snow on rare bright days in Jotunheim. Those were dangerous days to wander outside, because the light could blind you and lead you into a chasm or make you lose your way.

“Borther!” Loki was greeted by Thor. He gave Loki a look from head to toe and nodded approvingly. Then the Prince turned to his mother, giving Frigga a quick peck to the cheek.

“Congratulations, Mother. He looks like a true Prince, now,” Thor complimented, completely not realising his backhanded innuendo that Loki had not looked very regal in his own clothes.

“I think I had very little to with that,” Frigga tried to smooth things over, and gestured at the table in the middle of the room to draw the attention away from Thor's blunder. “Shall we eat, now?”

The great table filled with foods that were mostly strange to Loki. By now he was past suspecting he would be just blatantly poisoned. Frigga urged him to take whatever seemed most appetizing to him, and eat his fill once he found any dish that pleased him enough. Thor set an example by emptying platefuls of food.

The bath, the food and the relative comfort of the clothes could have lulled Loki into restful state, if it hadn't been for the way the servants behaved around him. Sif had first acted like Loki might jump at her any time to tear open her throat, but these people seemed to be absolutely terrified of him. Behind their courteous manners Loki could see the trembling hands, and heard how they hastened their steps when leaving the room. He could almost smell the fear in the sweat that soaked their fine clothes.

Frigga seemed unnerved, sitting across the table to Loki and nibbling on some fruit. Without her calm example, Loki suspected the servants would have gone to full panic. He couldn't help himself; it was too much to resist.

“You,” Loki spoke to the servant filling his glass. The man almost jumped, spilling the red liquid all over. Loki ignored that, instead drilling into the man's blue gaze. “I would eat some some raw meat. Of something _young_.” He almost wanted to add a command to bring him a baby to eat, but that would have been over the top.

“Y-yes, right away. My- Lord,” the man stuttered, saying the title like someone was forcing it out of him.

“Fresh veal for Prince Loki,” Frigga requested, her tone calm as ever, but a sharp look in her eyes, and Loki knew he was being scolded like a misbehaving brat. He countered with a mischievous smile that would have earned him a slap on the head from Gjalp.

“That sounds delicious. Fresh, raw meat is a delicacy in Jotunheim,” he said. “Good for digestion, but I see here you prefer cooked dishes.”

Thor had perked up and followed the exchange with keen interest. Loki expected another backhanded comment, but instead the Prince broke in laughter.

“Good one!” Thor slammed his hand on the table. “That's going to give the kitchen maids something to gossip. Did you see Torvid's face? I thought he was going to faint!”

“I will make sure the kitchen knows of your preference from now on,” Frigga interrupted his son, with certain finality. No more games at the dinner table, her tone suggested.


	3. Chapter 3

Not even in million years would Odin have expected to see the Layfeyson he had left in the snow. Not that Odin would have recognised this young boy as the same child, but Muninn, ever vigilant, had immediately made the connection. He was still smaller than any Jotun that Odin had ever seen, but very much alive and very much radiating strength.

Odin wasn't sure how it happened. Just in few hours since Loki's arrival, he had already become Frigga's new favourite and a blood brother to Thor. Entire Asgard was in uproar. Odin had no choice but to close ranks and show that House of Odin stood in unison. Prince of Jotunheim would be welcomed with open arms, and that would be the end of it.

People would object and gripe about the Laufeyson any way, Odin concluded. If the royal family showed full support, it would hopefully make the majority of people accept the situation more easily. Members of his council and other politicians would be a different thing, but it was good to shake things up in that front every now and then. At least Odin now had Loki on his side of the court. If he was to belong to the House of Odin, he would have to play his part in it.

Odin would have preferred a private audience, but now that things were spinning out of control, he arranged a public spectacle in the Great Hall instead. He sat on his throne in full regalia, Frigga flanking him on right and Thor on his left. Most of the court had gathered around and the Einherjar stood on guard.

Lady Sif was told to put on her full armour and don the red fur cape and the sword she'd brought back from Jotunheim. She perfectly fit the part of an Asgardian warrior who had found herself in dire situation but come through stronger than before. Loki was also dressed in a mix of Asgardian clothes and his own white furs and bone clasps, looking more like something that Asgard's public would think was a civilized person instead of a half-naked savage.

The two made a curiously nice paring while walking down to the foot of the throne. Sif knelt with practised ease, Loki followed suite, a bit stiffly.

“Sire.” Lady Sif spoke, thankfully following the script the ceremonial master had drilled into her. “This is Loki, son of Laufey, Prince of Jotunheim. After I found myself in Jotunheim by accident, he protected me and saved my life. In return I speak for him and plead to you. He needs an asylum in Asgard! By helping me he broke the laws of his Realm and would face certain death if he was returned there.”

Lady Sif almost looked like she was about to add something out of the script, but then wisely kept quiet. Odin spoke up before the hot headed girl would change her mind.

“It is a great joy to see you back alive and unharmed, Lady Sif. House of Odin was distraught when a loyal warrior and a close friend went missing,” Odin said. “I wish to express my gratitude to Prince of Jotunheim for protecting our subject. Loki Laufeyson, you are welcome to Asgard!”

No Jotun had set foot in Asgard in a thousand years. _Welcoming_ one was almost an anathema. The audience of courtiers murmured in surprise and offence. From above Odin could see the young Jotun's shoulders tensing up.

Frigga was quick to take action.

“I wish to thank you, too, Loki Laufeyson, and invite you to our Realm. May there be peace between us, and friendship,” the Queen spoke with genuine warmth, hushing the audience. “As a Prince, you are to be treated equal to my son. Please, rise and accept our hospitality.”

Loki got on his feet with fluid grace, clearly happy to be out of the submissive position.

Thor was right on cue and descended the stairs to meet Loki.

“And I, Thor Odinson, declare you, Loki Laufeyson, as my blood brother!” he boomed.

The audience that had just been quieted by Frigga's gentle words now roared. Odin's grip on Gungnir tightened a little. Asgard loved Thor, but had he crossed a line that would turn the crowds against him?

Thor seemed unphased about the reaction and turned over to Sif, gesturing her to stand up.

“Lady Sif, you swear that Loki Laufeyson protected you from all harm, even on the expense of his own safety and well being? And he did that by his own choice, not forced or coerced in any way?” Thor asked, his voice easily carrying over the crowd and drawing its attention back on him.

The hall was quiet when Sif replied: “I do so swear!”

“Then no man can say that Laufeyson has less honour or integrity or courage than any Asgardian! He is well worthy to be a brother of mine, and I cannot give him a greater reward for his actions!” Passion in Thor's voice challenged anyone to oppose him, and true enough, the response from the crowd was now more compliant, a softer murmur.

“Asgard!” Thor roared, and grabbed Loki's hand to raise their arms up in unison. “Loki, my brother!”

What choice did the crowd have but to applaud?

Odin let out a soft exhale. Not the route he would have chosen. But one day soon, Thor would make a great king.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally posted this chapter instead of drafting it, so I deleted it. Sorry, if anyone got a notification for a posted chapter that wasn't there!


	4. Chapter 4

“This is fine, Herleif. Leave. Please.” Loki was ready to push his manservant out of the door. The man took forever, making sure everything was up to his standards, and while Loki enjoyed being catered, right now all he wanted was a moment of privacy. Finally the servant was ready and left the room, bowing at the doors before closing them. Loki leaped after him and froze the lock shut. He simply didn't want to be disturbed.

Herleif had prepared the bath for Loki. He had used cold water, but even that wasn't enough for Loki now. He tipped his finger into the water and sighed with satisfaction when the edges of the pool begun to frost over and a thin ice rim around the pool appeared. Quickly he removed his clothes and lowered himself in the icy water.

The last few days had been full on celebration of Sif's return and Loki's inclusion to the royal family and filled with new people, strange ceremonies, thinly veiled contempt and anger, heat, food, Thor, talk of politics, lavish gifts, toasts, empty promises, and gold, gold, gold everywhere. Loki let himself sink completely underwater. In the cold with his eyes closed he almost felt detached from the chaos that his life had turned into. Dark, cold, peaceful... like home.

He couldn't stay there for long though, and he had to come up for air. The golden light of Asgard shined through the ice crystals stuck in his eyelashes, blinding him. Loki wondered if he could ever go back home. Settling his back against the pool's wall, he tried to relax.

Immediately he realised it was a bad idea to do so. Something was moving, soft rustling betraying the intruder. It came from the balcony, and Loki cursed himself. He should have frozen the entire room into an ice cube, but he hadn't thought anyone would climb all the way up to his balcony to sneak in. Assassin, maybe? Very likely, what else? Underwater Loki summoned a dagger of ice, grabbing it while on the surface seeming like he was just about to doze of.

 

 

Sif was beyond frustrated. After the official ceremony Loki had been whisked away from her before she could say a word to him. In the following days every time she tried to get to him during the festivities, someone blocked her way. Master of ceremonies, Einherjar guards, gaggle of courtiers- even Thor kept standing in her way!

“Thor, just take me to him! Tell the guards to stand down. You can come along, be the chaperone or whatever, I just need to talk to Loki!” Sif pleaded.

Thor evaded looking her in the eye, pretending to be intensely interested in a sample piece of armour the master smith had sent for him to choose from.

“Not yet, Sif, okay?” Thor said. “Father is keeping him really busy. I can't simply cram you into his schedule.”

“Five minutes. To check up on him, make sure his okay,” Sif persisted.

“Loki is _fine_!” Thor countered. “I see him every day, and he is having the time of his life! I can't imagine what kind of hell hole Jotunheim is, and now he's being treated with the best that Asgard has to offer. How could he possibly not be better than ever?”

Sif resisted the urge to punch Thor in the arm for being dense, like they did when they were younger. Nowadays it didn't seem appropriate anymore.

“Be like that, then,” she rasped and turned on her heels to leave the room. If Thor wasn't going to help her, she would have to do it for herself.

They had placed Loki right next to Thor's rooms, Sif knew that much. When they were young, they had investigated every set of rooms in the royal wing, much to the annoyance of the steward whose job it was to keep them clean and immaculate in case someone was to suddenly move in. The doors had been locked and set under guard, which had not stopped Thor from continuing with the game.

They had found the servants corridors that connected the kitchens and laundry rooms to the royal wing, a network that criss-crossed inside the golden walls. There were small windows in the walls to let in daylight, and one particular window had been in just the right place for them to jump out and onto the balcony next to it. From there they had an easy access to the rooms. They had kept low profile, cleaning up every day to hide their illicit game, and had never been caught.

But once the rush of doing something forbidden had worn off, they had grown tired of it. The sneaking around was fun but took lots of effort and cleaning up their game day after day suited Thor poorly in particular. Around that time Volstagg was introduced to Thor as a training partner, then Fandral and Hogun, and silly childhood games were left behind. The secret passageway had been forgotten and gone unused.

How convenient for Sif.

It took her a good part of the afternoon to wait for a moment when the servants corridor was quiet. The passing Einherjar guards started to look at her funny. Finally she got her moment and slipped unnoticed through the hidden door.

The golden splendour changed into humble stone walls and wooden beams framing the narrow passage. Sif moved to find the right window. Even if everything was probably the same as it had been years ago, it looked different from a grown up perspective. When she found the window, she realised something had changed: the width of her shoulders and hips. It was one thing for a slim child to slip through than it was for her now.

Peeking out through the window to estimate the jump, Sif also understood why no adult had found this little fault in security. The distance from the window to the balcony was much longer than she remembered, the fall down to the court yard below much more dire. _We were such stupid kids, how didn't we die?_ Sif thought. _Maybe I should find another way..._

Sound of foot steps reached Sif's ears. The servants coming towards her were still far away, but she had to decide; either sneak away or squeeze through and jump.

She could hear Loki's voice. He was inside; this was her chance! Throwing away caution, Sif grabbed the window frame and pulled herself through. The ledge was smaller than she remember, or rather her feet bigger. And she would only get one chance with this. If she failed... _I won't!_ Sif told herself and jumped.

If there was a moment when Sif's heart skipped a beat and she was certain she was going to fall into her death, she wouldn't admit it. Her hands met with the metal railing, grasping firmly. Her feet landed against the wall and her knees bent, then straightened again, and she pulled with her arms and pushed with her feet, and then she tumbled over the balcony rail, safe and in one piece.

_Ha! Loki is not the only nimble one around here_ , she thought victoriously, giving one more look over the rail down to the yard below her, then turning to look inside.

Sif spotted Loki relaxing in the bath. Well, modesty wasn't an issue for him, so he wouldn't mind her coming over while he was buck naked.

“Loki?” she called his name to alert him of her presence.

The young Jotun's eyes opened, and he looked like completely taken by surprise.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you in the middle of your bath,” Sif said.

“That's not what... But you must be out of your mind,” Loki moved to the edge of the pool closer to where Sif was. “Did you climb all the way up, or do you have wings?”

“There's a servants corridor inside the wall, and a small window close to your balcony. We used to explore with Thor when we were children,” Sif explained. “Can I come in?”

Loki waved his hand invitingly.

“If you don't mind me staying here, then by all means,” Loki said. “I've been slowly boiling alive for days. I plan to stay here until end of times.”

Sif snorted amusedly and walked over. She plopped herself to sit down on the floor farther away from the pool to give Loki a little privacy.

“It's hardly full spring yet. Maybe you can move to the cellars once the summer's heat comes on,” she suggested.

“Sounds lovely,” Loki groaned and slipped further back into the water.

“The boiling aside, how have you been treated?” Sif asked. “Thor has been doing his best to make sure you have whatever you need.”

“My new blood brother has been _wonderful_.” Loki sighed. “I have more sword than I can use up in a life time, and horses too... When ever his cup is empty he makes sure mine gets filled too, even if it's still half full. Helblindi could learn some brotherly manners from Thor.”

Sif couldn't help but to bristle up. Loki's tone was mocking, and all Thor had done was to try and be nice.

“Thor is doing everything he can to make you feel welcome. He might be a little enthusiastic, but give it time, and he'll come down a bit,” Sif said.

Loki glanced up at her, some odd sharpness in his eyes that Sif couldn't quite figure out, but then he ran his hand over his face and when he opened his eyes he looked normal again. At least, what Sif had come to think was normal for Loki.

“I don't know why they won't let me come see you,” Sif said to get the conversation into better direction. “I even asked Thor to invite me to your table, but he gave me some weird excuse about giving you space. Like I was crowding you? I just had to come and make sure you're doing well.”

“No, I'm really fine. Busy, and overcrowded by everyone else. But the royal family has been... better than I could have imagined. Truly. But how about yourself?” Loki asked. “Is everyone eager to hear how you managed to tame yourself a Jotun runt?”

“Loki,” Sif scolded. “No one has said anything like that to me. My family and friends were worried, and wanted to hear what happened. And I've told them the truth of what you did.”

“Not the whole story though,” Loki pressed. “Not about how we slept and bathed together.”

“Uh...” Sif could feel her cheeks blushing. “I didn't think telling that would make either of us any favours. Why would you even bring that up, you fiend?”

“Well, the water is nice, if you'd like to join...” Loki grinned up to her, which didn't help the heat on Sif's face at all.

“In your dreams!” Sif scooted backwards. “Did you pour ice in there? Looks really inviting.”

“If I warm the water back up, will you come in then?” Loki pressed, and suddenly his presumably friendly teasing made Sif uncomfortable. She had to set boundaries, for what passed here in Asgard and what not.

“I just came here to make sure you're fine, and that seems to be the case,” she said and got up. “I _won't_ be bathing with you again.”

“Not even if I were to call my new brother to join us?”

There was something mean in Loki's voice that Sif hadn't heard before, and she sharply looked at him.

“ _That_ has even less appeal to me,” she spoke the words in tense, quiet words. ”You have been in Asgard for only few days, and you're was already singing the same song as everyone around me and Thor. You'll fit right in, without my help.”

“I was just joking, Sif,” Loki pouted. “I have been on guard with everyone since I came here. I hoped that I could talk to you without measuring every word I say.”

Sif sighed. “Thor was right. You're tired, and I should have left you alone. I'll let you finish your bath.”

She turned and walked over to the door. “Uh. The lock is frozen.”

Loki hesitated for a moment, and Sif almost thought he was going to refuse letting her out, but then the block of ice thawed.

“Fare well, Lady Sif,” Loki called from the bath, somehow making the polite words sound like an insult.

Sif scoffed and walked right out. She passed the Einherjar guards on the door, who were startled by her sudden appearance from the room where she wasn't supposed to be. Their confusion gave Sif time to slip away before they thought of questioning her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey it's only the chapter 4 and the main pair gets to talk to each other! Slow down, kids, it's tagged slow burn!


	5. Chapter 5

Something Loki was completely unprepared for were family dinners.

“Mother is very particular about us having dinner as a family on regular basis,” Thor explained. “And you're family now!”

Thor's abundant signs of brotherly affection were starting to dwindle down, and Loki was finally getting used to his charismatic presence. He was still figuring out Frigga. Behind her motherly kindness and royal poise was sharp intellect and undeniable power, and Loki was still somewhat vary around her. But she was always pleasant and good at smoothing feathers when her son managed to ruffle them up.

Odin was completely different story. He was very much the fearsome warrior king of the stories Loki had heard as a child. Not that he showed any open hostility towards Loki, on the contrary, he was making rather clear how welcome Loki was- when there was an audience. When the public and the courtiers and the royal advisers were gone, he didn't even try to familiarise himself with Loki. They had exchanged a few polite words, Odin asking Loki if he was treated well and if he needed anything, Loki assuring him that Asgard's hospitality was beyond his expectations. One time Loki had caught Odin watching him, and there had been a strange look on his face, almost like... Loki still quite couldn't read these smooth faces and the eyes with the bright whites showing. But he thought he had seen regret on Odin's features.

It was a bit unnerving to sit across the table to Odin. The Allfather was seated at the end of the table, Frigga on his right and Thor to his left, and it was natural for Loki to be seated on the available chair on the other side. Natural, but not comfortable. Only buffer between him and the man who had personally slain his kind by dozens and had commanded thousands more killed was the roasted boar.

“Is cooked meat still offensive to you?” Frigga asked while a servant set down a plate of thinly sliced raw meats for Loki.

“I'm getting used to it, thank you for asking,” Loki said. To be honest, he hadn't eaten this much meat in years.

In his childhood in Utgård, people had been struggling to get enough food to support the community, and Chief Loke had come up with the idea that everyone shared whatever they could scrape together. Most of it had been roots and mushrooms, collected from the deep caves where they thrived in the subterranean volcanic warmth. Hunters ate the best bits of meat while out hunting and brought back scraps, which had very little to go around. Loki rarely got meat more often than once a month.

After he was taken to the Temple, situation hardly improved. When he was young, Helblindi did keep him fed. But Loki realised very soon he was better off taking care of himself. He was a decent at trapping, and sometimes he could use his magic to his advantage when hunting, but being out alone was more risky than worth the small animals he could catch.

Thinking back to how everyone in Jotunheim had had to struggle for survival after the Casket had been taken by Odin, the sweetness of the fresh veal turned sour in Loki's mouth. The greasy, still steaming boar, flesh falling off its bones was almost a stomach churning sight.

“Try the greens,” Frigga held out a plate. “From my personal garden. They should go well with the veal.”

 

Another new thing for Loki was the constant social life. In Jotunheim, he had basically lived as a hermit, isolating himself more by every passing day. Who he could have socialised with? Sleeping Laufey, who could barely hide the hate he had for his son, or Helblindi, who probably hadn't killed Loki because he didn't think he could be serious competition for him? Helblindi's band of hunters, who on a best day tolerated Loki?

Sometimes people came to the Temple, to seek their Kings advice or ruling. If they wanted to consult the remains of the Temple's Library, Loki had come out to assist. Usually he could strike up a conversation and ask for news from other parts of Jotunheim. That had been the extent of his social contacts for years.

Now he was alone only when he slept. Right from the moment he woke up, the manservant Herleif would be there to serve breakfast and help him with the infernally complicated Asgardian clothes while he rattled away Loki's schedule for the day. Fitting for new clothes with Frigga's seamstress, riding lessons (Thor had been aghast that Loki didn't have any experience on horseback riding, “How else would you join me hunting?”), going over armour designs with the master smith, meeting with Asgard's legists to go over what his position in Asgard's royal family was, lunch with Frigga and courtiers she wanted him to meet, Thor's invitation to come and watch him train (“Perhaps join us, if you feel so inclined.”), more meetings, more seeing new people, more Thor...

At the end of the day when Loki had finally gotten rid of Herleif, he cooled his room the best he could and iced shut all the entrances and then just lay on his bed and tried to think of nothing.

Yet the one person who Loki hadn't seen was always on his mind. He hadn't seen Sif since she had stormed out of his rooms. It had been a relief for him, because he really didn't know what to say to her. That her reaction to a silly joke had been unreasonable? Remind her that she had sworn to protect him? Say he was sorry, but it was very hard not to draw conclusions about how highly Thor thought of her, and how she looked up to him like he was the Sun itself? How it ate at Loki's insides when the only person he gave a damn in this weird and foreign world didn't care about him anywhere near as much? That he was stupid and sentimental, and could use a smack on the head, but he didn't want to be abandoned among the strangers and would she please look at him like she did in Jotunheim? Like he _meant_ something to her?

 

 

Sif tossed a piece of dry wood into the fire and pulled the fur cape a little tighter around her. It might have been early spring, but the nights up in the mountains were still chilly. At least that was how she reasoned to herself bringing the huge red fur cape with her.

While in Jotunheim, Sif had missed Asgard with all heart. After coming back she had been reminded tenfold why she had originally been spending time away exploring the mountains. The people, especially of the court, could be so overbearing. _How frightful it must have been for you; being surrounded by those monsters! Bwah; they're no match to an Asgardian warrior, even a woman! I fail to understand, why did you bring the Laufeyson with you, surely you could have just left him there? Will there be another war between Asgard and Jotunheim? Well, if they need to have their place shown to them once again, our warriors are up to the task!_

“Aah, look at this, a nice plumb grouse found its way to the trap!” Volstagg hooted, walking over to the fire and holding up the bird. The man had made good of his word not to leave Sif alone again, and when she had announced that she was going to spend few nights out in the mountains, Volstagg had promptly bagged his bags and ridden along her. And to his credit, Sif had to say, while he loved the comforts of the city life, once out in the wild Volstagg quickly adjusted and managed to make most of it.

The voluptuous warrior sat down with his catch and started plucking it clean, all the while whistling a merry tune. Sif watched him work as he cleaned the bird, rubbed it with seasoning inside and outside before impaling it on a skewer and setting it over the fire to roast. It was easier to quiet her thoughts while watching Volstagg work, and Sif felt grateful for his company.

“The joys of the simple life,” Volstagg sighed after cleaning his hands and settling down by the fire. He gave the bird a few turns over the flames every now and then to ensure an even cooking, and for a while there wasn't other sounds but fat droppings crackling in the fire.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” Sif asked abruptly. But if she did take Volstagg by surprise, he didn't let it show.

“Well, it was a mistake to go exploring a cave alone! Even the regular ones, with no portal holes to Jotunheim, are pretty dangerous.” Volstagg clucked like a mother hen.

“No, I mean... bringing Loki to Asgard with me. Should I just have left him where he belongs?” Sif pressed on. Now that she started talking about it, she'd see through what Volstagg had to say. He was older than Sif, perhaps a bit wiser, and he certainly had a good heart. If she dared to ask anyone's advice, it was the Lion of Asgard.

“Well, since you asked.” Volstagg crossed his fingers and rested his hands on his belly. “I think his being here is going to mean trouble. I think _he_ is going to be trouble. _But_ I don't think you did anything wrong.”

“That doesn't make any sense,” Sif scoffed.

“I mean you did what was the right thing to do,” Volstagg said. “If you had promised to help the young lad and then gone back on your word... Well, I wouldn't have blamed you, but I would have wondered, what did Jotunheim do to our Sif, honourable and honest Sif who'd never break a promise. So, I'm glad you came back more or less the same you were before.”

“That's what everyone keeps saying: 'you did what you thought was right', but that seems to imply I messed up,” Sif kept digging.

Volstagg turned his attention back on the bird and after a while Sif was starting to suspect that he was going to drop the subject. But he had been just gathering his thoughts, because he spoke:

“Did your mama ever tell you to behave, or a Frost Giant would come and take you away in his bag?”

“Not my Mother,” Sif said, confused of how this had anything to do with her situation. “But I had a nanny who tried that. I told her I would bite my way out of the bag and then kill the Giant.”

“I'm sure you did,” Volstagg laughed. “But you see, I was a big boy when the war with Jotunheim started, and no one had told me that. My mama would say: 'Surtur will burn your hand off if you keep stealing cookies'. And Grammy was always on about Dark Elves. Frost Giants, they didn't seem that scary. Just big and strong and sometimes mean, but so was Old Knut from down the street.”

Sif knitted her brows, but Volstagg just poked at the firewood to get the good embers under the bird.

“Scaring children with the Frost Giants, that started around the war. After we all but destroyed them and took their source of power. And I didn't think much of it, until just recently, when you came back with the Laufeyson in tow. You reminded me that we didn't always think Frost Giants are baby-eating monsters. We used to _trade_ with them. I can't be the only one who remembers.”

“I hear you, but how does that answer my question?” Sif asked impatiently.

“It means, I can't say what's going to happen, but if you're worried about mistakes, they were made long before, when you were nothing but a babe,” Volstagg said. “Not that it'll keep people from laying the blame on your door... But,” he reached over to put his finger under Sif's chin and pushed upwards, “keep your head high, Lady Sif. You did the honourable thing, and if the people of Asgard can't follow that up, it isn't your fault!”

 

Later, belly full of roasted grouse and bundled up in her blanket, Sif felt more peaceful than she had for weeks. In the hazy half-sleep she envisioned the jumbled mess that had been her thoughts and feelings unraveling and coming undone. Anxiety and worry peeled away, frustration and anger melted into nothingness, even annoyance disappeared like a soap bubble into the sky. In the last moment before falling asleep, last thing left in Sif's mind was the vision of red eyes and blue face, framed by raven black hair.


	6. Chapter 6

“What? Are you done already?” Thor spread his arms, the axe Jarnborn in his right hand. He turned around to look at the Einherjar warriors who he had sparred with and who had all been defeated. None of them seemed interested in another beating.

“Oh, what shame. Seems like we must depart from the training grounds and seek some other, less sweaty form of entertainment!” Fandrall brushed a mass of golden hair back from his face. Hogun by his side was already occupied with cleaning his mace from dirt and grime.

Loki leaned against the rail separating the dusty training ring from the grandstand. He had expected a dull afternoon, having to stand under the blazing sun to watch Thor poster around and play with his friends for a show. The idea itself had seemed stupid to Loki, to make he Crown Prince's training sessions a public spectacle. As if Thor needed his ego fluffed any further. A few dozen courtiers, mostly women, had seated themselves in the seats above the training ring, and Loki had had to stifle an eye roll at their tittering.

It had turned out to be quite interesting. Very quickly it became apparent that Thor was a mighty warrior, strong, skilled, and dangerous. And he had stamina. Long after his friends the silent Vanir and gold-haired swordsman had given up and moved to observe from the rails, Thor had taken on more and more Einherjar opponents, one by one or in groups, and beat them to the ground.

Those of the Einherjar who hadn't been yet dragged away to the healers knelt and laid down their weapons, and Thor raised his arms in victory. The courtiers begun applauding, Fandral and Hogun clapped too and Loki was just about to join in when a woman's voice interrupted them.

“Not too fast, Odinson!” Lady Sif walked to the ring, adjusting her vambraces. “Don't you even try to call it quits before I get to join in.”

“Lady Slow-poke!” Thor grinned and lowered his arms. “I have been warming up, just for you! Where have you been hiding?”

“Mystical training at the mountains,” Sif replied and drew her sword. “So I can give you much needed ass kicking.”

Loki hardly paid any attention to the pre-fight trash talk Asgardians were so fond of. Hs attention was on Sif, how she looked so different here in her home, under the harsh light of Asgard's sun. With her hair tied back in a tight ponytail she seemed more collected than in Jotunheim's wilderness, and her pale complexion had a glossy rosiness to it. In her brand new armour Sif was so different from the wild girl who had fought for her life. Yet she was as beautiful as ever. Loki realised he was staring and peeled his eyes off of her.

Thor was lifting his axe up in a salute. Sif turned to the rails where Fandral and Hogun were, beckoning them to join in, but got only refusing head shakes. Her eyes moved over to where Loki stood, and for a moment he thought she was going to invite him to the ring to fight by her side. But she only nodded her greeting to him before turning back to Thor and saluting him.

When the two warriors charged at each other, Loki wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved that she left him out.

 

 

“Not much of a 'mystical training', huh?” Thor panted, grouched over Sif and pressing her down with his body. “Do you yield?”

There was no way for Sif to throw off the bulk of Thor's body; she might as well tried to wrestle off a mountain. But she knew his weakness: his overconfidence. Thor had pinned her swordhand down, but her left hand was free. She grabbed a fistful of the gravel from the ground and tossed it at Thor's eyes. Instinctively he turned away to shield his eyes. Sif took the advantage. She shot up with the speed of a striking snake, colliding her forehead against the side of Thor's head. Experience had taught her that head-butting straight on with Thor wasn't a winning strategy, but the side of his head was considerably softer. And as she expected, her attack made Thor lurch to the side, and she could push him off of her.

Through the dust rising from the ground, Thor and Sif's eyes met, neither of them ready to give up just yet. They were just about to go at each other again, when Fandral and Hogun appeared between them.

“Enough, enough! Please!” Fandral pleaded. “Take a break, have a rest and come back to finish this. Tomorrow, preferably.”

“It would be better to end gracefully, before you two resort to hair-pulling,” Hogun accompanied.

Sif looked up to notice how much the shadows had lengthened during their fight. The grandstand was empty of spectators, save for one tall black-clad watcher.

“We could call it a tie,” Sif suggested, turning to look over to Thor.

“You cheated, and fight dirty, so I don't know...” the Prince spat out some dirt. “But I'll be the bigger person here, so aye, a tie.”

Sif got up and went to pick up her fallen sword.

“I was disappointed that you didn't bring your new sword,” Thor commented.

“The one from Jotunheim? That didn't feel... appropriate.” Sif avoided looking to where Loki was still standing. “Maybe some other time, when there's less audience.”

“Hmm. And maybe I'll be training with a new weapon soon...” Thor looked a bit smug.

“Do you mean...?” Fandral raised his eyebrows.

“Father says the time is nigh,” Thor said. “Just you wait.”

Sif tried to join the excitement, but she could feel the stare of red eyes drilling into the back of her head. As soon as it felt appropriate, she detached herself from her friends and walked over to Loki.

“I hope you found that entertaining,” Sif said.

“Very much,” Loki answered, but Sif couldn't tell if he was being sincere or not. “These kind of displays of strength... not something I'm used to. It's educational.”

“Next time, you should join in,” Sif suggested, and Loki looked genuinely surprised.

“Are you sure? Wouldn't that look... antagonising? A Jotun against your Crown Prince?” Loki countered.

Sif hadn't thought of that, but just shrugged. “It could be good too, people seeing you fight fair.”

“Well. There's a problem. I don't fight fair,” Loki smirked.


	7. Chapter 7

There was something to be said about Loki's bed in Asgard: it was the cushiest thing, like a mound of recently fallen powder snow. Loki literally sank into it, and after Frigga had crafted a spell that kept the bed linens feeling cool all night, it had become his favourite place.

But tonight there was something wrong with the bed. Something hard and lumpy was pressing into him, and no matter how Loki tossed and turned, he couldn't get away from the intruding object inside his mattress. Finally he gave up and tried to get his hands on the damn thing to get rid of it. In the dark he tore at the mattress and sank his hand inside. Finally he reached the object and pulled it to his face for inspection before he would toss it away.

It was a bone, a curved, splintered old thing.

Loki's eyes flew open and he was no longer in his bed, surrounded by the dark. He was on the field of bones underneath the blood red sky. Scampering to his feet, Loki turned around to face Laufey.

King of Jotunheim had piled the bones of his dead enemies to form a throne to sit on, mirroring the position of his real body in the waking world. His dream image looked down on the dream image of Loki, his expression clearly one of disgusted disappointment.

“I would have congratulated you on actually making it all the way to Asgard alive, but I find you sleeping in their silks and wearing their velvets... Your breath reeking of their wine. Tell me, have you gorged yourself on cooked flesh?” Laufey spoke in low voice.

“Sire,” Loki greeted his father. “Would you have preferred if they had thrown me in a prison cell and thrown away the key? Surely I serve you better free and in trusted position.”

“Free? I gilded cage you have been put in! And you will forever be a Jotun in their eyes. Never their equal, never worth a damn thing once you've outspent your usefulness.” Laufey scoffed.

“Perhaps I can make them forget what I am.” Loki aimed to provoke the King. And he knew a good way to do that. He let his form change like he had once done for Sif, his blue skin turning pale and the curved lines fading away, the red eyes shifting into bright green. Loki made a little prancing turn to let Laufey see all of him in Aesir form. While he didn't believe for one second that this illusion could make Asgard forget his race, it was amusing to make Laufey squirm with discomfort.

“You are debasing yourself and your talent.” Layfey sneered. “Enough of your childish games! Helblindi suffered great injuries from the Asgardian. I am not pleased.”

“Oh, did he run to cry to you about it?” Loki grimaced, still holding on to his pale form just for the fun of it. “Did he remember to mention how I actually kept the said Asgardian from killing him? Or did that inconvenient detail slip from his mind?”

There was a painful creak and the ground shook when a gigantic rib cage suddenly burst up, sending shatters of smaller bones flying. The knife-like rib bones arched around and above Loki, effectively imprisoning him.

“Guard your tongue!” Laufey commanded. “Helblindi is my true son and heir, and you are one mistake away from treason. Only I know you are in Asgard to get back the Casket, and should you fail, I see no reason to share that information with anyone. You'll be branded a traitor and returning to home would mean your death.”

Loki remained unshook by Laufey's posturing. Right now, despite the threats and the cage, he was feeling pretty confident. Summoning Loki to this dream place from Realms away must have been taxing for Laufey. He would get tired soon, and lose his grip. Also, Laufey was dead wrong. Utgård-Loke knew of Loki's purpose on Asgard too, and his plan to dethrone Laufey and Helblindi actually suited Loki much better.

“Seems like Helblindi is one mistake away from getting his ass handed back to him,” Loki noted. “He truly tried to start a clan war with Utgård, left his men to lead the attack to come after me and then had to limp back like a beaten dog... That didn't make him look too good.”

“Unlike you, Helblindi is strong.” Laufey's voice was sickeningly thick with approval. “He has what it takes to rule Jotunheim. No one will think him weak, not when Utgård is reduced into a lake of hot mud.”

“Wh- what?” Loki stammered.

“As a Prince of Jotunheim, he has the right to wield certain powers, to command the bowels of Jotunheim herself. And that he did, removing the barriers that kept the lava from rising to the surface.” Laufey closed his eyes, as if savouring the thought of destruction and terror. “The valley of Utgård is brimming with mud and lava, and the remains of Loke's clan are scattered in the icy plains. They will not be scheming against the throne ever again!”

Loki's head was reeling. Utgård, it's unique trees and the hot springs... all gone. The only place he had called home, the only people who had ever resembled a family for him. Destroyed. Over Helblindi's petty need for revenge.

And not only that, but how much of Jotunheim's already lacking resources had the maniac wasted on causing the cataclysm? And without the food gathered Utgård's forest, many other clans would suffer too. The thought of how the cesspool would affect Jotunheim's climate, Loki's head couldn't even wrap around that.

He laughed, no joy in his voice.

“Fine. This is actually too good to be true,” Loki shook his head, then looked up to the dream sky. The carrion birds were descending closer. “I couldn't have planned this better myself. Let there be a civil war. Let the chiefs and the hags choose sides, against Helbindi's madness, or join him for loyalty or honour or fear or plain greed. I hope you all tear each other apart, until every last one of you relics who still hang on to the memories of your past glory are dead! And when Jotunheim is ripe for the picking, I will come back with my new friends, and claim the throne by birthright!”

Loki didn't mean it. Of course he didn't. Of course. It was just too rich to see the look on Laufey's face, the horrible realisation hitting him. Loki could only hope it matched the blow that Laufey's news had just given him. This time Loki's laughter was high-pitched and blasphemous, full of delight for finally being able to hurt his father.

“You piece of-” Laufey pushed himself up, clearly too weak to really get on his feet. But his rage fueled him and he lurched towards Loki.

Last time Loki had visited Laufey, he had come in a shape of a bird. Laufey had anticipated that and set the bone cage and the carrion birds to keep Loki from escaping to the skies. But there were more animals in Loki's repertoire, and when the King surged towards him, he vanished from sight. Or more accurately, he was now so small, he disappeared among the bones. And his white fur helped to blend in. In his snow weasel form Loki ran and danced and dashed and hopped, too fast for Laufey to really spot him.

Despite the weasel's dance looking like Loki was just playing, he knew he was in dire situation. He needed to find the way back from the dream place, into his own body in the waking world. And Laufey had hidden the gateway. As much as his mad dashing was to distract and deceive Laufey, it was also Loki's attempt to find the way out.

Finally Loki spotted it! The small distortion in the air, almost like a hot air making the air wavy marked the gateway. But it was above a deep chasm, too long jump for a small weasel. The bird form could easily glide there, but it would also be an easy target for the carrion birds, their talons sharp as knives and beaks for breaking bones.

Sick clattering and creaking of the bones came closer. Loki dared to look behind him, and he saw Laufey crawling towards him. Even if he didn't know Loki was there, he guessed correctly that the gateway was where Loki would be headed too. With another glance at the gateway, Loki knew he had just one shot. And the best form he knew for jumping was his own. Just for the small added safety, Loki envisioned himself as Aesir, hoping that the pale skin would blend in better with the bones and make him a harder target to hit. Then he grew into his Aesir form, and took the jump.

Loki had no chance of glimpsing back as he threw himself at the gateway, but he did hear Laufey's roar. Then something hit him, and he fell, fell limp into the dark.

Loki's body hit the ground. But it wasn't the ground, just the soft pillowy depth of his bed. Loki jerked himself upright, and his skin was cold and clammy, the freezing cold air brushing on it in the most unpleasant way. Had the room been this cold before?

Loki's vision was still blurry from spending too long time in the dream state and his rubbed his eyes to make the feeling go away. When he lowered his hands they looked strange. In the deep dark of the room the colour of his skin was too bright. Had the room always been this dark, too?

In panic, Loki pushed away the sheets and ran to the closest mirror. The pale reflection looming from the dark proved his fear true.

Loki was all pale skin and green eyes. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get himself back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, it's the plot! And we're only half way through the fic. 
> 
> Maybe some of you saw my comments about how it was a struggle to work with all the characters in Asgard. I wanted everyone I introduce to have their moment in the spotlight and solid characterisation that's not only few stereotypical lines. I hope I delivered? Now that all the game pieces are in place, we can get into moving the plot along.


	8. Chapter 8

The dawn was close, and Loki was end of his wits. Every spell he tried had failed. When arcane proved useless, Loki had resorted to plunging himself in a cold bath and scrubbed his skin in hopes that the water could wash away the illusion and give him back his true colour. Too soon the cold water became unbearable, and while a part of Loki thought he should let the cold numb him so he could scratch off his skin, he knew that wouldn't save him.

Once out of the pool, air felt even more freezing against Loki's unprotected skin, and he scampered to find one of robes set out for him by Herleif. The manservant was probably already up, soon coming to politely tap on Loki's door. He wouldn't enter unsummoned, but he would continue tapping on short intervals until Loki usually gave up and called him in. If Loki would refuse the man from entering entirely, freezing the doors shut, it would only cause alarm. Soon an army of Einherjar would be behind his door, then Thor, and perhaps the Allfather himself. Someone would blast the door open and find Loki in his unexplainable Aesir form, and it wouldn't take long for Frigga or Odin to figure out Loki had been in contact with Laufey. He would be tossed in prison for sure, perhaps even put on the block! Panic twisted Loki's stomach into knots. He should get out while he still could, take advantage of being able to blend in. Sif had already revealed to him the secret way out of the suite. He might even get out of the city and then... Hide in the mountains until he was hunted down. No, there was no escape.

But he needed help. He had to find Sif.

Trying to find clothes that wouldn't draw attention to himself, Loki cursed his vanity. Of course he had had to pick the finest fabrics and most elegant decorations. In haste he chose a simple long coat and leggings. He grabbed a pair of boots but didn't put them on yet.

On the balcony Loki could see the last remains of the stars' light vanishing into the quickly spreading deep pastels. Not long until the sunrise. He peered over the balcony rail to find the window Sif had told him about. And yes, there it was, a bit lower than the balcony but the curve of the tower's wall made it somewhat inaccessible. Well, for someone clumsy and stiff like an Asgardian, perhaps. If the past few hours hadn't been a literal and tangible nightmare for Loki, he would have felt gleeful as he wrapped the boot strings around his neck to free his hands and settled on a easy perch on the railing. A quick jump – o _h Norns, if I hit the ground below, would my death break the spell?_ – and then his feet met the narrow window sill. Not wasting the momentum, Loki tumbled inside and ended on the floor on all fours, silently like lynx on snow.

A bustle of footsteps were nearing him, and Loki sped to the opposite direction, his bare feet silent on the stone floor. As soon as he found a door he exited the servant's corridor to find himself in some kind of a storage room. In its relative safety Loki donned on the boots and straightened his clothes, and moved through the next door.

The gold was surrounding Loki again. Now less sensitive to the light, he could actually look around without feeling like golden needles were being pushed into his skull through his eyes. This was the first time he was outside his rooms unsupervised and unguarded, and if the situation had been less horrible, he would have liked to walk around in peace and take a closer look of everything.

Soon Loki wished there'd be much less sight seeing. Finding Sif's rooms with blind luck hadn't panned out, and it felt like every turn was taking him further away from where he thought the court residents lived. Eventually he had to dare to stop a maid and ask her.

“Excuse me...” Loki's soft words halted the maid, who looked him up and down and seemed to settle to something like sullen acceptance.

“What? Make it quick, I have work.”

“Where would, ah, Lady Sif live?” Loki saw the maid's eyes narrow, and he opted for a lie. “I have a message from... Sorry, I am new here, do you know the blond swordsman? It's from him.”

“Oh, you mean Lord Fandral?” The maid's demeanour changed, and she actually brushed her hair back with a coy smile. “Where did you see him? I mean, if you see him again, I have a message of my own to him. Tell him, Gunna misses him. That's me.” She giggled. “He'll know where to find me. Oh, Lady Sif will be down any moment, she's usually up with the sun. Two floors up, east facing suite. Quickly and you might catch her!”

Loki was already on his way, thankful that luck had been on his side at least in once today. The swordsman could have been warming the bed of this particular maid this particular night.

Loki sprinted up the ascending slope, abandoning stealth for speed. He located the right floor and the door to the east facing suite, and came to a screeching halt in front of it just as it opened. Sif stopped on her tracks too, holding the door open and looking annoyed at having someone barge in on her like this. Then recognition came to her and she cocked her head in confusion, opening her mouth to speak.

“Shh!” Loki lifted a finger on his lips and basically dived under Sif's arm into her rooms before anyone might see him.

“What-” Sif pushed the door shut and dropped the latch down.

“Sif, please.” Loki lifted his hands up. “I can explain- or I don't know if I can... But I'm stuck like this. My fath- Laufey did this to me. He attacked me! I swear I didn't go to him willingly!”

Sif's hands flew to her sword. “Where? How did he get to Asgard?”

“Not here! In the dream world, where I met talked with him before our escape. Your sword won't reach him there...” Loki took a breath and forced himself to a relative state of calm. “And he can't get here. We're safe, from him.”

“Oh. Good.” Sif relaxed too, her hands coming down to her sides from the hilt of her sword. “So... why did you rush here, then?”

“Because his spell hit me and I'm now stuck like this!” Loki's moment of calm was gone. “Once the Allfather sees me, he'll know. He'll sense Laufey's magic on me, and knows I was in contact with him. I'm done for, because why would he believe I'm not conspiring against Asgard!”

“Because if Laufey wanted to keep you as his spy, he wouldn't have marked you so clearly with his magic?” Sif pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It is clear to anyone that he did this to punish you or set you up. Really, calm down!”

Sif tried to step closer to Loki, perhaps to touch him comfortingly. But Loki backed away instinctively, his nerves still on edge.

“Unless Allfather thinks this is the oldest trick in the book, framing me as a victim to make it seem like I have cut all ties to my home, while actually continuing to plot against Asgard!” Loki was sure this was going to blow up on his face. “Maybe he'll put me away just in case, to appease his people! He has nothing to win from trusting me, but people of Asgard would _love_ to see me in chains!”

“You might be overthinking this...” Sif shook her head. “You're not giving anyone the benefit of a doubt. And even if Allfather would have his suspicions, Thor will take your side. He definitely does not think as complicated as his father does. Frigga will back you up too.”

What Sif was saying made sense, Loki had to admit. He took deep breaths to calm himself back down, and tried to see things from Sif's perspective. As naïve as her trust in her King was, she also knew the workings of Thor's mind. She was probably right about Frigga too.

Loki looked down in his hands. His thumb was rubbing the skin on his other hand, like trying to scrape away the pale skin. He sensed Sif moving closer, and this time he allowed the closeness. Her fingertips came to brush the back of his hand.

“You feel warm again,” she breathed the words. “I had almost forgotten...”

And then she withdrew again, just before Loki could place his hand on hers to keep her near.

“Hey, this could be a good thing,” Sif said hastily before the silence could continue for too long. “People keep seeing you as a Jotun first, and don't really bother to look closer to see _you_. Now they have to pay attention to more than just the colour of your skin.”

“Oh, well, that makes it alright, then!” Loki said through clenched teeth. “Of course they will now see me as something better than a baby-eating monster!”

Sif obviously didn't understand. She had no idea how it felt for Loki to have his own form stolen from him, being forced into this shape he hadn't chosen, not knowing if he would ever see his own face in the mirror. She was looking at him with confused eyes, then tried to go for something she probably thought to be comforting words:

“Well, it's not a bad look on you...”

Loki felt something snap inside him as his patience ran out. This night and morning had been too much. He had to take some of it out on someone else, and Sif was right there. Let it be a lesson for her.

First Sif didn't notice anything. But when she saw the smirk on Loki's lips, she frowned. Her eyes shifted away from him, and she caught her own reflection from a polished shield hanging on the wall.

“What...” Sif ran over to the shield to peer at herself through it, then dashed out of sight into what must have been her bathroom and came back holding a small hand mirror.

“Very funny, Loki,” she rasped while examining her image.

“I think so too,” Loki mocked her, crossing his arms and leaning back a little as if enjoying the view. “Black lips really suit you.”

“And the horns? Also, where are my eyebrows? None of the women in Utgård looked like this.” Sif's tone was as icy as Jotunheim's winds.

“Ah, you never saw the Ironwood tribe. They have horns, and the women often pluck their eyebrows,” Loki explained. “I always thought that was really fetching. Not a bad look on you at all!”

“Ha ha, funny.” Sif put down the mirror and stared at Loki.

Now the silence really stretched between them.

Sif looked down on her hands to find them still blue. “Well?” she asked impatiently. “Joke's over, Loki.”

“Oh no. Not a joke.” Loki spoke with tone equally cold with Sif's. “If Asgardians might learn to love me as one of them when I look the part, then they should also get used to seeing one of their heroes in monster's skin. Perfect combination! If I ever get my own form back, it would be nice to not be killed on sight just for being the wrong colour!”

“Oh for Norns' sake!” Sif rolled her now very lovely red eyes. “Alright, _fine_!”

Sif suddenly grabbed Loki's wrist and started dragging him towards the door.

“They've noticed you've gone missing by now. So, we need to go meet the Allfather right away, before actual suspicions start running high. And if that's what makes you feel better about this, I'll stay a Jotun until you get your real form back.” Sif tugged at her sword belt. “Better not go out armed, or someone might get a wrong idea before they recognise me...”

“Sif. Sif! Stop!” Loki dug his heels down to hold her back. If it had been anyone else, he would have thought it was just an act to call his bluff, but he knew Sif too well. She meant what she said. “You really would do that for me.”

“Aye.” Sif unbuckled the belt and let the sword drop to the floor. “I've already once proved everyone wrong about what they thought of me. I can do it again, and if it makes you feel less lonely, it'll be worth it. Now, let's go!”

“Please, just a moment,” Loki released the spell and returned Sif back into her own shape. “I was just trying to prove a point. I don't think you looking like a Jotun would actually help either of us. But...” He was about to thank her, but couldn't help himself from little mischief. It did make him feel better: “... you really looked nice. Shame!”

“Ugh!” Sif rolled her eyes and resumed to pulling Loki towards the door. “I'd smack you, but you need your brain to think up what we'll tell the Allfather!”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Loki lay on his back on Soul Forge while Eir worked the machine. Frigga was close by, the halo of her golden hair in Loki's peripheral vision. Odin was there too, and although Loki couldn't see him, he could sense the Aesir King's presence. The air felt thicker and charged with power around him; it the Odinforce that only he commanded.

Another person Loki could not see but sense was Thor, his footsteps and angry voice coming from outside. When Thor was quiet, someone else spoke, but too quietly to have her words carry through the walls. Sif was talking Thor down from his rage.

“I sense no traces of Laufey's magic in Asgard,” Odin finally said, the tension around him dwindling down somewhat.

“With your permission, then, I will begin the scan,” Eir said, and upon receiving a nod from her King, she ran her hands over the controls, and the Soul image of Loki appeared above him.

All three people stepped closer to inspect it, and Loki had never felt more exposed in his life.

“That would be his Jotun form...” Eir highlighted a segment of the image with blue. “This is the illusion he cast on himself.” A white netting appeared over the blue. “And this must be Laufey's spell. Tightly locking the illusion in place.” A pattern of red pin-like shapes appeared, burrowing into the white netting.

“Quite the pin cushion,” Loki tried to joke, hoping to mask the unnerved state his was in. “Anyone care to pluck them out?”

“If I only could...” Eir shook her head. “This is quite beyond my capacity.”

“May I?” Frigga looked down at Loki, and when she had his consent, she closed her eyes. A silvery hand appeared in the Soul Forge image. It carefully navigated through the Soul image and reached the part encased in the red. Ever so gently the hand pinched a red pin and tugged.

Loki felt like his skin was being ripped off of him. A scream erupted from his lips, and even though Frigga pulled out as fast as she could, the sensation of being skinned alive lingered. Yet as soon as Loki had caught his breath, he turned to look at Frigga with pleading eyes.

“I was merely startled. Go on, do it. Don't mind me, it didn't even hurt that much!” He'd put up with the pain if it just meant getting his shape back.

“I shall not go on with it,” Frigga spoke gently but firmly. “We must find another way. I see this curse pains you, but I will not risk killing you.”

A curse, that's what it was. Loki's eyes drifted up to look at the sickening image. Laufey had hit him with a curse, perhaps trying capture Loki in the dream world. Something had gone just slightly wrong because he had already been half way back in the real world, but the result had been just as terrible.

The doors burst open and Thor stood in the doorway, Sif flanking him.

“We heard screaming!” Thor stomped in.

With a quick move of her hand, Eir made the Soul image vanish.

“Everything is quite under control, your Highness. Lady Sif, I have never seen you enter the Hall of Healing so eagerly...” Eir radiated disapproval.

Frigga managed to get Thor to stop and look at the damage he'd done to the door, but Sif made her way to the Soul Forge just as Loki was getting back on his feet.

“It sounded pretty bad,” Sif said. “Do you need help standing up?”

“I'm fine,” Loki assured her. Had it been the two of them alone he might have accepted her support. but right now Loki had no intention of showing any weakness in front of the royal family.

“We have learned all we can of Loki's condition,” Odin said, commanding the attention back to himself. “It is clear we have no conventional method of removing the curse. Loki, it is understandable that you want to rid yourself of the curse and return to your normal form, but... perhaps consider this not as a disadvantage, but an opportunity. If you wish to explore Asgard more freely, this is the chance.”

“How right you are, Father!” Thor was one of the few people in the world who dared to interrupt Odin's monologuing. “Loki, there are great many things in Asgard that will help you take your mind off from your ailment. I have been wanting to show you around, but your appearance alone would have made you stick out like a sore thumb. Now you'll blend in. You can be one of us!”

Going out in a moment like this didn't appeal to Loki at all. But Thor's last words, _one of us_ , did that include Sif too? Loki turned to look Sif by his side and was met her hazel eyes bright with excitement.

“I'm sure you would like it,” Sif prompted.

Did she really want Loki to come along with her and Thor, or did she just excited about being part of Thor's plans? The latter idea almost soured the whole deal for Loki. But what was the option; mope away in his suite, mourning for people who surely now all hated him and clawing at his cursed skin in hopes of tearing it off? Exploring it was, then.

“I would love venturing outside the palace walls, brother,” Loki agreed.

Thor leaped to his side and pulled him into an one-armed hug. Uncomfortable as that was, Thor's bulk offered Loki support and saved him from walking out with legs of a new born moose calf. Thor almost carried him out of the Soul Forge room, Sif in tow. Odin and Frigga remained, mostly likely to converse in privacy. Loki would have loved to hear what was said of him there, but wouldn't get the chance, not with Eir standing watch in front of the doors.

As soon as they were out of sight, Loki was about to tap Thor's arm to prompt him to release him, but it was the golden Prince who was first to stop and gently let go of Loki.

“Father rattled you up bad, huh?” Thor asked with a lopsided grin that was half humoured, half terrified. “His bedside manner is terrible; they shouldn't even let him near the Healing Rooms.”

“What? Oh no... it was actually Frigga who-” Loki was caught off guard. Was Thor considering his well-being? Surely not!

“Oh, she's even worse,” Thor chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “No wonder you needed to be carried away. Don't think too much about it, between Mother, Father and Eir, it's lucky you can stand at all. Mother may be all tender and loving on the surface, but I tell you, when I was a child and refused to take my medicine, It was her who forced it down my throat. She's tough, when she needs to be. For your own good, of course.”

“Of course...” Loki repeated, still on shock. Thor was actually sharing something intimate about himself. This was so different from his usual bravado, Loki didn't know what to think of it.

“It really sounded like you were being tortured in there. I know Healing Rooms are unpleasant place, but you must have had it bad!” Sif joined in. “What were they doing to you?”

“Oh, you know, whips, red hot tongs...” Loki couldn't just talk about it so he joked. “Soul-tearing curses, dull and rusty knives, all that usual stuff.”

“The usual stuff,” Thor nodded along, as if that matched his exact experience of Healing Rooms. “You really must be in need of a good bath. Let's get you into one, and tonight we'll venture out in the city!”

“Tonight, already?” Loki asked.

“No time wasted!” Thor laughed and put his arm around Loki, much gentler this time but still offering his support. “Lady Sif, if you would kindly alert the rest of the party while me and my brother go where you cannot follow.”

“Oh, I _can_ go where ever I choose. And I choose not to come near your bathroom, my Prince,” Sif laughed. “I will see you in a bit.”


	10. Chapter 10

Sif kept an eye on the gaggle of young women who were making a bad attempt at pretending they hadn't noticed Thor and his company. Locks of hair twirled softly around fingers, fluttering eyelashes coyly hid the glances thrown at Thor's company, and there seemed to be a competition going on for who could lift their bosom highest without falling off of their chairs.

“Why the daggers in your eyes, Sif?” Hogun leaned over so his quiet voice would carry over the crowd's noise.

“Oh? What, I'm just looking at these girls making fools of themselves. If any of them wanted to talk to Thor, she should just come over and make nice, not just sit there and think he'll be lured in like a dog smelling a juicy steak,” Sif scoffed.

“I hear you. But this is nothing new,” Hogun observed but then heard Thor mention his name and turned his attention back in the Prince retelling some adventure or another of theirs.

Hardly listening to a story she'd heard dozens of times before, Sif pondered on Hogun's words. What was bothering her tonight? She looked over at the table where the maidens sat, and saw one of them lean over to whisper in her friend's ear, and both of their eyes turned to briefly glance, not at Thor but Loki by his side. Sif's eyes narrowed. They'd better not be speaking ill of Loki! But the coral red lips smiled and formed a silent _hello_. Sif turned to look back at Loki and saw him just averting his eyes away from the girl. Soft giggles carried over barely audible over Thor's voice, but to Sif the maidens might as well been laughing to her face. A hot flash went over her body, and she knew she'd better step outside.

No one had paid attention to Sif leaving, or so she thought when she leaned her back against the wooden beam outside the tavern. To her surprise, Loki came out right after her, and immediately Sif straightened up and scanned the street for any sign of potential danger. So far no one had made the connection between Loki the Jotun Prince and Thor's new pale friend, but you never knew.

“I just had to come out to cool a little. It was getting so hot inside...” Sif hurried to explain.

“It does get hot,” Loki agreed. “Much nicer out here. But I wanted to ask you, what does it mean when someone blinks just one eye at you?”

“As in winks at you?” Sif frowned. “It's means there's a secret, a conspiracy, or someone has said something that includes a secret message just for you. Why? Did the wom- did someone wink at you?”

“Fandral, actually,” Loki cocked one eyebrow. “He said he'd keep an eye on me and ''winked''. Is it a threat?”

“Oh. Oh! No, not at all,” Sif laughed in relief. “He's flirting with you! I mean, don't take him seriously, he flirts with everything. I had to push in off the docks to prove the point that I didn't care for it.”

“Flirting?” Loki looked puzzled. “He doesn't mind that I'm, uh, not a woman?”

“He really doesn't care about that.” Sif shook her head. “We're alike that, me and Fan. In all other regards we're different, but neither of us cares about gender.”

Sif cocked her head.

“Is it not like this in your home Realm? I know it's different in other Realms. Vanir are really into settling down and having kids but don't really care what kind of arrangement that entails, and elves are downright lewd at times. With dwarfs, you can't even tell gender! Midgardians are just really complicated.”

Loki avoided eye contact with Sif. “I don't like to discuss this out on the streets...”

“Right.” Sif realised she was being intrusive. And it was kind of relief to see Loki this bashful. His carefree attitude towards nudity and bathing had led Sif to think he might be equally carefree about pursuing _other_ things. Not that she cared. Why would she care, if Loki wanted to go out and do... what he wanted to do.

“Maybe we should head back inside,” Sif suggested. “Unless you have more questions?”

“I'm fine. Let's go back,” Loki agreed.

 

Thor got progressively more drunk, his mood picking up as his tankards emptied. He ended up with one arm around some old warrior who kept telling how he had fought in Borr's army, _before you lot were even a twinkle in yer daddies' eyes_ , another resting on the shoulders of a pretty blond. All three of them were singing. To Sif it seemed none of them were singing the same song.

Hogun was offering support to Volstagg, who was reciting the many wonderful qualities of his fiancé, Gudrun on their way out of the tavern. Fandral was having success with plenty of pretty ladies, although some of them had retreated to sulk in the back benches while throwing dirty looks at the lucky girl under Thor's arm. Sif had ended up sitting next to Loki, but there wasn't much conversation to be had over Thor's singing and the general noise of the tavern patrons. When ever the Prince came out to town, people came in to see him, and the place was absolutely packed.

“...is how you have good time?”

Sif barely heard Loki's question, even though she could feel his breath on her neck when he leaned close to speak.

“Aye!” Sif turned to aim her mouth at Loki's ear to make herself heard. “But this is nothing, just a night out! You should see it when-”

Someone pumped into Sif and to avoid hitting her forehead in Loki's temple she put her hand up and it landed on Loki's chest. At the same moment Loki was turning his face to see what the fumbling was about. Their faces brushed together, and then they jolted apart. Both were just trying to avoid a painful collision, but from outside it must have looked like they were about to kiss, and then got violently separated.

“Oh, excuse me,” Sif muttered and got up, and quickly bolted out. Well, as much as one could bolt through a crowd. She got out and circled back of the tavern to visit the private rooms. When she finally returned, she saw someone she didn't know sitting next to Loki, leaning close to him. Sif was just coming over to them, but her way got blocked by two men who had decided to grab each other in a great big bear hug, swinging drunkenly from side to side. While trying to duck past them, Sif heard the girl talking to Loki.

“...just like that! I've seen Lady Sif do that to a man before, punching him just for trying to be nice to her. Did she hit you very hard?”

“I think I'll survive,” was Loki's answer, and one of the men moved his arm just in time to let Sif see Loki leaning forward and winking at the girl.

Sif didn't know why she felt like she had just been punched in the gut. For a second she wanted to reach and grab both Loki and the girl by their hair and just knock their skulls together. But then she turned on her heels and tried to push her way out of the tavern. Something wet and cold and smelly splashed on her. Sif turned her face upward to see a big man holding an empty tankard.

“Hey, watch it, you made me spill my drink!” the man shouted. “How about you compensate it to me with a kiss!”

The man made kissy face at Sif and winked.

 

Thor had his arm around Sif and he half carried, half dragged her away from the tavern.

“It wouldn’t be a night out without a good fight,” Thor slurred in a drunken, jovial tone. “But lets not sour things with a murder, Lady Sif.”

“Let. Me. Go!” Sif kicked and wriggled, but Thor's hold of her was like iron. She considered biting his arm, but even in her rage she knew there were some lines you didn't cross when a friend was just looking after you.

“Ah, and there comes Fandral with Loki,” Thor noted and halted, although not releasing Sif just yet. She refused to look at the approaching two men, instead crossing her arms and hiding her red face behind the hair that had gotten loose from her ponytail.

“No permanent damage was done on the furniture, and the man will live, though he'll need new teeth,” Fandral informed them.

“If he didn't come prepared having his teeth knocked out, he shouldn't have tried to kiss me!” Sif hissed and made another attempt at getting free. Thor lifted her by her waist in the air to keep her form getting a good foot hold.

“From now on, he'll think twice of being overly familiar with strangers from now on,” Fandral tried to smooth things over. “If you'll excuse me, there is one terrified but lovely lady named Fjulla, who insist she needs to be safely escorted to her home, and I volunteered, after making sure you three are alright. Is everyone alright? Loki, can you help Thor to get Sif to the palace without further incidents?”

“Thor seems to be doing just fine. But I will help, if he needs it.”

Sif was still refusing to look at anyone. She heard a clink of metal as Fandral assumably took a theatrical bow and his steps on the paved street going away from them.

Thor hoisted her a bit in his grip, and Sif gave him a kick for it.

“Oh, did a fly bite my leg perhaps?” Thor joked. “I felt the tiniest little sting. Now, brother, Lady Sif, lets get back.”

It would have been a quiet way back if Thor hadn't felt like more singing.

 

 

Two dark shadows crossed the starlit sky above the palace court yard. They circled down silently like drops of ink in water and took the form of two ravens just before landing on a balcony railing. Croaking softly they hopped over to their master and dutifully took their places on his shoulder to report all they had seen that night.

“How did the night go?” Frigga walked to the balcony, alerted by the birds' soft crooning. “Everything in order?”

“All is well,” Odin replied and turned to look at his Queen. Huginn made a delighted little sound and hopped over to Frigga's shoulder to be rewarded with a affectionate scratch on his beak. Muninn, the older and the more solemn one of the pair remained on Odin's shoulder.

“Thor just arrived home with Loki, carrying Lady Sif. She got into a small brawl,” Odin reported. “The men I had set up around the city weren't needed. No one has figured out who Loki is, yet.”

“They eventually will,” Frigga observed and picked up Huginn to return him to his place on Odin's shoulder.

“After a few outings like this, my agents will leak the information to the public,” Odin said. “By then most people should have been used to seeing Thor's new companion, and though they will be shocked that a Jotun has been walking among them, they'll also have to admit, he is quite harmless. Or appears to be.”

“You still have reservations about him?” Frigga asked.

“I must consider all possibilities. The curse could be a reverse tactic. He might even be a sleeper agent, completely oblivious of his part as a pawn until Laufey deploys him.” Odin sighed. It was a heavy burden, suspect everything and everyone.

“We saw no sign of such thing on the Soul Forge,” Frigga reminded Odin. “Curse is cruel thing to do to your own child...”

Odin reached his arm to wrap it around Frigga's shoulders and pulled her in a soft embrace. The ravens hopped into air and took perch on the railing.

“Did we ever find out what came of Farbauti?” Frigga asked while pressing her head of golden curls against Odin's chest.

“After Jotunheim fell, Laufey broke free and fled with his family.” Odin remembered. “Reports said that he had Farbauti carried off with him, looking wounded. They must have had just given birth, but... they must have been sick or injured before, to cause the child be born as a runt.”

“Are they dead, then?” Frigga pressed the matter.

“Assumably, yes. Farbauti was never seen again. Faufey's hiding place was hidden well from Heimdall's eyes and my ravens'. Somewhere deep inside the ice crust of Jotunheim.” Odin sighed. “The day has been a long one. Shall we?”

Frigga nodded and still holding to each other, they walked inside.

 

Odin settled into the soft linens while Frigga sat down to her night table to give her hair a brush and braid it up. He turned his head so he could keep her in the line of sight of his intact eye and a soft smile caressed his lips. Frigga peered over her shoulder and smiled back at him before tucking the end of the braid into her hair.

“It would have been much simpler if Laufey had sired a daughter,” Odin muttered to Frigga when she came to lay down to his right side.

“How so?” Frigga asked, frowning.

“It would have been a good match. Princess of Jotunheim and Prince of Asgard. That would have settled a lot of things right away,” Odin said and closed his eye.

For a moment it was quiet, then Frigga spoke with an amused tone:

“Only you could think that would have been _simple_ , my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tries to mush Loki and Sif's faces together* Now kiss! 
> 
> About Farbauti's gender: Marvel just went and swapped Laufey and Farbauti's genders, because in the original myths Farbauti was Loki's father and Laufey his mother. Why? Who tf knows? Anyway, I didn't want to swap them back, but thought I could play with Farbauti's gender a bit and make them non-binary.
> 
> Unfortunately, so far they've been called a mother, a Queen, and a sister. Also one Einherjar has referred to them as she, but that's because he didn't really know or care about Jotun genders. Mother, I think, can be used to refer as someone who has given birth to someone. Queen is a title, a gendered one, sure, but in this case can mean ''the spouse to a King''. Only gendered word I would change is Utgård-Loke calling Farbauti his sister. But since that's already in the previous work, I'm not going to retcon that. Loke might be using ''sister'' as a affectionate term. I hope this is not offensive to any non-binary readers out there! 
> 
> Odin is referring to Farbauti as ''they'', because he's also a diplomat, and respects other people's gender expression.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herleif isn't just a stuffy old butler!

“So, Herleif... How goes the life in the palace?”

Herleif lowered his pint to see the all eyes on him shining with curiosity. He really loved these moments. When his older brother and his wife had taken over the family business of running a tavern, and Herleif had been sent to find work in the palace, no one had really seemed to care if he came back or not. Now when he came down to visit the family, everyone wanted to buy him a drink and see if they could loosen him up to share a little bit of royal gossip. Who would have thought Herleif had it in him to make it all the way up to serve the royal family?

“The same old, same old...” Herleif shrugged and peered at the bottom if his empty pint. It was quickly filled to the brim from the large pitcher on the table. “I mean, I think you've all been seeing more of the Prince these days than I have! He and his friends spend a lot of time here in the city.”

“Then...” one of his cousins leaned closer in a conspiratorial manner. “ _Who_ is the black-haired young noble he's seen with all the time? Do _you_ know?”

“Oh... Oh! Have none of you figured out yet!” Herleif chucked and leaned closer to his cousin. The whole table and some of the people seated in the other tables moved closer in unison.

“Who is it I've been serving hand and foot these last months?” Herleif whispered. “Who came in through the Bifrost with Lady Sif, and was made Thor's blood brother? Blue skin, red eyes... raven black hair?”

“No!” There were gasps going around the whole tavern and wood screeched as tables and chairs were moved closer.

“But... how is he not... blue?” One of the wenches asked, dropping the pretense of collecting empty pints nearby.

“Some clever magic. Clever magic indeed,” Herleif winked at no one in particular. “It's not just for appearance’s sake. He says he's much more comfortable like that. Used to be boiling alive inside that blue skin of his, the poor lad. Had his room cold as the ice cellar and still had to dip in ice baths all day long to keep from overheating...”

“Poor lad?” Herleif's brother scoffed from behind the bar. “I'd rather call a wolf pup a poor thing than a Jotun!”

“Hey! Holger!” Herleif turned in his seat to look at his brother. He didn't look at anyone else, just bore his eyes into his. “You don't know a damn thing about him! He came here not knowing if Allfather would chop off his head or just straight up throw him off the Bifrost. He's not some big scary Frost Giant swinging an ice spear! You've seen him, he's practically still a child. Queen Frigga saw that, and so did everyone else in the royal family.”

Herleif kept his eyes on his Holger until the man grunted and started to wipe down the bar with a rag. Satisfied, Herleif turned back the rest of his audience.

“Prince Loki is learning our ways and a brat he might be with his tricks; mischievous one indeed. But he's nothing to be scared about, not for any of you.”

The room was quiet, and Herleif cleared his throat.

“Aw, Roscoe...” he turned to address his cousin. “You shouldn't keep filling my pint. I've spoken too much. This could cost me my job at the palace... You'll all keep this a secret between the family, right?” He looked around to see people coming out of their stupor and then nodding vigorously.

“Sure thing, Herleif! Between the family, of course! Here, drink up and forget your worries!” Roscoe poured more beer while someone else patted his shoulder reassuringly.

 

Later Herleif left the tavern, saying he had an early morning ahead and he had to get at least an eyeful of sleep before that. There was some attempts to make him stay but nothing too insistent. He was sure he wouldn't even make it out of earshot before the gossiping started.

Indeed, work well done. While being a manservant for the royal family was a hard work with some perks, being the agent of Allfather was a job he could really put his talents in use. Herleif chuckled to himself on his way to the servants' entrance to the palace. Nothing like drinking and knocking his brother down a peg while being paid!

 

 

“Aah, good workout. Glad we got this done before the day starts getting too hot!” Fandral sighed and brushed some frost off from his armour.

Sif peeled herself off the dirt where she had thrown herself face down to avoid being hit with a hail of frost daggers.

“Who said it's over? I need a do-over!” she insisted and got Fandral to groan.

“I'm ready to go for another,” Loki commented, twirling a miniature storm of snow between his fingers.

“Tempting, but I fear we're out of time,” Thor commented from the rails. He had been catching his breath while Sif and Fandral had been taking a turn in trying to get through of one of Loki's hail storms. “We have a wonderfully boring meeting where Father wants us present.”

Loki dissipated the storm by closing his fist. “Us, brother? I thought the summon was only for you,” he said.

“Certainly, but I would appreciate your company there. You have been good at counselling me before,” Thor insisted and was rewarded with Loki's smile.

Sif had noticed how Loki smiled more these days. He had a charming smile he could summon up, and while it wasn't quite as radiating as Thor's sun-like smile, it was good at warming up people. Loki also had a mischievous grin that seemed to cause a lot of eyelash fluttering among the ladies of the court. There was the almost sneering flash of teeth that often came out during fight practice, and the delighted laugh with his tongue peeking out when he was truly getting a hold of a new spell.

But Loki's less flashy, smaller and genuine smile that Sif had seen only appear between the two of them had been missing. A lot of that had to do with how they never seemed to be alone. Loki had become a part of Thor's inner circle, but that meant they were always a group. Not that either of them had really tried to make effort to get together.

Even now Loki moved to Fandral's side and started discussing some fine detail of dagger work. Sif could have stayed and tried to make herself part of it, but she did need to have a word with Thor, and this seemed like a good time to talk to him before he disappeared into his duties.

“I've noticed your heart isn't really in the training.” Sif just went right into it. She didn't bother trying to soften her words with Thor.

“What? I just wanted to give you and Fan a chance to flex! Should I always come and win the fights for you?” Thor scoffed.

This time Sif did punch him in the arm. They were still on the training ring so it was appropriate.

“Not just today. You literally drag your feet on your way in, and you'd rather go to some stuffy meeting than go at it again,” Sif pointed out. “What is it?”

“Well,” Thor shrugged and shifted the weight of Jarnborn in his hand, “it's just feels like it's my time to move on to bigger things. Father thinks so too. Sif,” Thor moved a little closer to initiate confidence, “I think it's time, really soon! If Loki hadn't shown up, it might have happened already, but Father delayed things until the dust settled. And now, it's like Loki's always been here, so...”

Sif felt a rush of excitement go through her. “Oh! Do you know when?”

“Not yet, but...” Thor straightened himself when Fandral and Loki ended their conversation and walked towards them. “Time to go or we'll be late!”

“Oh, am I keeping you?” Loki raised an eyebrow, and in a flash of green he was gone, and then appeared on the exit few yards away. “Keep up, brother!”

“Norns,” Thor muttered. “I'll never get used to that... Coming!”

Thor strode away to catch Loki. Fandral remained by Sif's side.

“He keeps getting better with his magic every day,” Sif noted.

“Hmm, it's a clever trick, I admit,” Fandral nodded. “Ducking aside during the fight, and making his double take his place? The real him hiding by the exit since then, just waiting for a chance to make the double disappear and then step out. Very well done. Thor didn't notice at all.”

“Well neither did I!” Sif said and nudged Fandral with her elbow. “Nice of you to try and give me a chance to pretend I did. Aren't you the perceptive one?”

“My dear Lady, I just didn't happen to be face down in the dirt when it happened.” Fandral smiled at Sif.

“So, the whole time you talked daggers with Loki, you knew it was his double?” Sif asked.

“Aye. But what is more curious is, did Loki know I knew, or not?” Fandral pondered.

“This is too complicated for me,” Sif groaned.

“Loki is complicated, haven't you noticed?” Fandral raised his eyebrow at Sif.

“I know he is... I just...” Sif sighed and shook her head. Loki had been complicated since the first moment they met. Why did she ever expect him to be anything else? “Nevermind. Let's go get breakfast.”


	12. Chapter 12

“A feast for me?” Loki didn't quite understand Thor's 'big news'.

“You've been here six months, and the summer is at its highest! I think that's enough reason to have a feast.” Thor beamed at Loki. “You've really become a part of the family, and feast would make it official!”

“I think you might be a little early,” Loki laughed and poured himself a glass of chilled wine. The summer was really high, Thor got that right. Even in his Aesir form, Loki was sweating. “A year would be a nice, round number, don't you think?”

“Nay! You're just not seeing it!” Thor waved his hand. “People are loving you!”

“Oh? So, if people love me so, how come Allfather's men follow us everywhere we go in the city, ever so discretely?”

“You've noticed, then.” Thor rubbed his neck and grinned. “Look, don't take it personally! Father used to do that all the time when I was young and went out with friends! It was more to make sure I don't get into trouble than for fear of anyone attacking us.”

“And I'm sure that's the reason this time too, so that I won't start fights or collapse whole buildings,” Loki noted dryly.

“One time! I bump into a corner of a lousy hut one time, and suddenly I'm 'collapsing buildings' all the time now,” Thor mimicked Loki's wording.

“Fine. If you are so sure people of Asgard have truly accepted me in their midsts, how about we go out without the chaperones,” Loki suggested. “With what you know and I have observed, we can map out where they would be. Our friends will help to knock them out, tie them up or lock them away. I know Fandral will do it, no problem.” _Because the swordsman can't pass up an opportunity to show off._ “Hogun will do it to show a Vanir can best any Asgardian warrior.” _He should try being a Jotun in Asgard and then think if he's being scorned_. “Sif will object, but she'll do it if you ask her really nicely.” _She's just gagging for your approval and will do anything for you, won't she? Do you even notice it?_ “Volstagg will be in once everyone else is.” _He just has no back bone, like a damn toddler!_ “Just a bit of fun, and we'll be back before your Father even notices his agents got played!”

Thor was considering it, Loki could tell. From what he'd heard, Thor loved adventures, and more illicit the better. The whole golden boy of Asgard was a role he played, one he loved to play because of the adoration and the acceptance it got him. But Thor also loved doing what _he_ wanted.

Odin was certainly grooming Thor to be a King, and Loki had gathered that the he had tightened the reigns on Thor recently. More official meetings, more studying Asgard's laws under the legists and less playing around with his friends. And it was suffocating Thor like the summer's heat was doing to Loki. The chance to get out, defy his father and do something he wanted... It had to be irresistible to Thor! No matter how Thor yarned for his father's approval, he was Thor, and he could keep himself in check only for so long.

“No, Loki,” Thor said in a deep, serious tone. “Perhaps you are right, and people of Asgard aren't ready yet. But a good feast will brighten up the mood, so I suggest we put our effort in that instead of the mischief, no matter how tempting!”

“Well, of course,” Loki said and laughed. “I was only joking anyway. It wouldn't put any of us in a good light to do such a thing... A feast then! I assume there will be roasted boar?”

“More than one! Dozens!” Thor exclaimed happily and grabbed Loki into an one armed hug.

 

Responsible and adult Thor was certainly something Loki was suspicious of. As generous and kind as Thor was, and how he had been welcoming Loki to a point where he had to admit he felt fondness for Thor, there always was the resentment. Loki had grown up in a wasteland, and no matter if Laufey's actions had brought it on them, the Jotuns had suffered while Asgard and its Prince had lived in splendor. Thor had his bratty side. He was the first born and the only child of House of Odin, and heir to the greatest power in the Nine Realms. He was rash, childish in his wants and absolutely too aware of his own physical strength and good looks. He had the luxury of being like that.

Only reason why Loki couldn't just hate Thor was that he didn't have any part in Jotunheim's fate.

But what was driving Thor to behave so mature now? Surely he didn't have to put so much effort in convincing Odin for his worthiness of the throne? Who else would Odin name his heir? Not only was Thor his only child, but people loved him. Also it wasn't likely that Thor would be coronated any time soon, since Odin was in good health and the Realm was at peace.

No, it was something else Odin was holding over Thor. It was something Thor had to earn, and it was driving Loki crazy not knowing!

Loki would have to speak to Sif, didn't he?

Loki had read the message loud and clear that night when Sif had apparently gotten to her head had he was trying to kiss her. Loki didn't know what stung more, the rejection or that Sif took him for such a boor, trying to kiss her in a crowded tavern, with Thor's drunken wailing for music! If he had wanted to kiss her, he would have picked a nicer place for it. And been more subtle about it. Perhaps even waited to see if she'd make the first move- That was such a stupid thought. Sif hated all men, apparently, so why would she make an exception for a Jotun runt, who had happened to save her life and- Another useless train of thought. Sif wanted to be friends, _fine_ , it was just that Loki really would have preferred to find that out in a less humiliating way.

Loki noticed he had tensed up his shoulders and he was clawing at his hand again. He inhaled deep and with a long exhale rolled his neck a couple of times to get rid of the tension. Surely he could talk to Sif, and find out what was going on with Thor. No big deal.

 

 

 

“May I bother you a moment, Lady Sif?”

Sif looked up from the plate of food she'd been wolfing down to see a dark haired beauty standing next to her. Her mind was drawing a blank on who the young woman might be, and then it clicked.

“Sure, lets go,” Sif mumbled, and wiping her mouth got up to grab the woman by her arm and practically push her out of the small dining hall.

“Oh, there's no rush, my Lady,” the woman laughed but didn't resist.

Sif dragged her out to the corridor and behind a large pillar where she let her go.

“Loki, what trick is this?” she demanded to know, quickly glancing behind the pillar to make sure no one had seen them.

“Do you like it?” Loki ran a hand across her chest and flicked back a strand of long, dark hair. Somehow she still looked like _himself_ , slender and long-limbed, but more curved on the hips and the chest, face more delicate and soft. She wore a green dress to match her eyes, with a tall collar and sleeves that ended in tight leather cuffs. “Another 'not a bad look' on me?”

Sif breathed heavily and did her best to keep her eyes on level of Loki's face, even if the grin she wore made her want to punch him. Her? Sif had told Loki she liked women too, so was this Loki's idea of turning it into a joke?

“It certainly is a good way to disguise myself,” Loki continued. “Although I'm not so sure about the fashions among the courtiers lately. Do you think I could somehow make sleek silhouette more popular? All this draping... it really doesn't flatter-”

“Did you have a point?” Sif interjected. Loki's appearance was attractive, but her impression of the courtiers chatter was grating.

“I do indeed. I wanted to see you,” Loki said, the sudden bluntness in contrast to her playful pretense just moment before. “But I guess I caught you at a bad time.”

“You just could have given me a warning that you can do... this,” Sif gestured up and down at Loki's body.

“I just found out today,” Loki said. “I tried out a few things and this felt comfortable.”

Fine, perhaps Loki wasn't doing this to mess with Sif.

“Lets go out in the garden. We can talk private there without seeming suspicious,” Sif suggested.

 

They settled into the shade of a huge weeping willow. It was private but also had a good view around them so no one could sneak up on them unnoticed. Sif was aware that it was also a favoured spot for lovers for the aforementioned reasons, but she pushed that thought aside.

“I appreciate the shade,” Loki said. “I remember you warned me about the summer heat, but I really wasn't prepared.”

“It is hot,” Sif said, impatient to get to the point. “You wanted to talk?”

“I said I wanted to _see_ you,” Loki corrected her. “But yes, talk too. About Thor.”

“Really? I thought I was too enamoured with him to your liking,” Sif said surlily. Last time she had talked about Thor with Loki, it hadn't gone down too well.

“I know now your interest in him is not... amorous,” Loki sighed. “But you two are close. So maybe you could help me understand him better.”

“Thor is pretty straightforward,” Sif said. “He doesn't pretend he's something he's not.”

“But he does,” Loki contradicted. “Right now he is pretending so hard that he's everything everyone else wants him to be, and I'm afraid he's pushing himself too far.”

“He's going to be the King of Asgard some day. He has to start acting like it,” Sif said. She'd noticed the change in Thor, thought it is was a good thing.

“Thor is certainly acting. It doesn't come very naturally to him,” Loki observed. “Why is he trying so hard?”

“He's only trying to prove he's ready.” Sif was quick to defend Thor.

“Ready for what?” Loki leaned in to catch Sif's eyes with her own.

Sif hesitated. It wasn't a secret, really. It has just always felt wrong to talk about it to much, as if that might invite bad luck.

“Thor wants to prove he is ready to pick up Mjölnir,” she finally said.

“A what?”

“Mjölnir. It's a... family heirloom. If you can call a weapon that,” Sif explained. Now it felt silly she had been so secretive about it. But if Thor hadn't confided with Loki, maybe she shouldn't have either.

“It's a powerful weapon, then?” Loki pressed on.

“I've said enough already,” Sif shook her head. “But it's important to Thor, so please don't make this harder for him! I've told you enough to satisfy your curiosity, yes?”

“Not even nearly,” Loki said and got up. “But I know you won't be sharing more, so I'll be heading to the library.”

Sif watched Loki's dark frame sway away. She'd always thought nothing could come between her and the loyalty she felt towards Thor; nothing, no a man or a woman. Now she was treading a line where every foothold could crumble under her any moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice how Loki didn't specify that he wouldn't want to kiss Sif, he just wouldn't do it in such unromantic way. ;)


	13. Chapter 13

One of the privileges Loki enjoyed immensely was the unrestricted access to the library. Well, the librarians had tried to set some boundaries, but Loki had quickly learned ways around every lock, password and spell. The ageing shush of librarians weren't used to having someone young and hungry for knowledge picking through their security.

The Temple had had it's library, but it was a ransacked and run down place. Most of the intact knowledge had been in the ice carvings, which were slow to read as they served more of a aesthetic purpose than educational one. Some of the books were still readable, but without anyone caring for them, the cold climate of Jotunheim quickly ate through ink and paper and parchment, leaving faded text and crumbling pages. Few enchanted crystals had survived, but the information on them could be anything from clan leader family trees to lists of offerings to the Temple. All the librarians had died, defending the place with their lives. With Helblindi's disinterest towards traditions and past, the library had been Loki's playground. He'd learned what he could from it.

It would have taken several lifetimes to master all the knowledge in Asgard's library, so Loki just went straight to the stuff they had been trying to keep hidden. That was probably the most important part anyway.

But information on Mjölnir turned out to be public and fairly extensive. A hammer made form precious Uru by the dwarves of Nidavellir, forged in the heart of dying star, a unique weapon meant only for the heir. It was heavy, not only due to the metal's weight but it had some special properties, almost a mind of its own. It choose its wielder, not the other way around.

Loki stared at the picture. It had been enchanted to have motion to it, a small animated tableau of the King of dwarves Eitri lowering a crate holding the Mjölnir to the feet of Odin's throne. Gilded runes snaked around the picture describing the glory and magnificence of the occasion-

Loki slammed the book shut. All this fuss over a glorified utensil. Thor was tired with his old toys and wanted a new, shiny one, the shiniest of them all. With a disgusted grunt Loki got up and turned to leave the library, only to realise he was facing Odin. He quickly gained his composure to perform a graceful bow, and picked up the book.

“Sire.” It still felt odd to use that word of Odin. “I was just about to return this book to its place.”

“Interest of the history of the House of Odin?” Odin asked, and without waiting for an answer waived his hand at Loki. “Leave it to the librarians. I would show you something, now that I know you are interested in the family affairs.”

“Is it not to best of my interest?” Loki quipped, but got only a dry 'hmm' as an answer from Odin.

Keeping up a conversation seemed like just a waste of breath, so Loki followed Odin in silence. They descended down, down, down along endless stairs, until they must have been underground. It was making Loki nervous, although he couldn't figure why Odin would try and personally lead him to trap.

Finally they came to a stop in front of a pair of huge doors. Their size wasn't unusual, but the decorations on them were simple, almost ascetic in Asgard's standards. Two guards saluted their King and pulled the doors open.

There was a staircase leading down to a stone construct shaped like a great ship. Water, or some other dark liquid surrounded it, completing the illusion. Along the hull of the ship there were recesses with objects hidden in them.

Odin went inside first, Loki hesitating only little as he followed.

“This is the Weapons Vault, in case you had not deducted that by yourself,” Odin said. “Go ahead, see Mjölnir for yourself.”

Loki walked down the steps and went to the recess containing the hammer. As he approached it, he begun to feel... something. A humming, static in the air. The small hair in the back if his neck stood up, and he started to realise Mjölnir was more than a shiny toy.

“What a waste on Thor!” he sneered. Apparently the Allfather was already a step ahead of what Loki was thinking, so he might as well stop the pretense. “He doesn't know magic! All this power, and he will use it just to swing it around.”

“You might not know everything about Thor,” Odin said, unphased by Loki's scorn. “But if you are so sure, why don't you try it for yourself?”

“It's for the heir of Asgard,” Loki pointed out. “Why would I bother trying?”

“If you can lift it, I will name you my heir. Asgard shall be yours, one day.” Odin was looking serious when Loki turned to look at him. “In fact, I won't have a choice. If Mjölnir chooses you, there is nothing I can do.”

“Madness!” Loki laughed. But then his laughter ended like cut with a knife. If that was all it would take... What did he have to lose?

Loki approached Mjölnir with care. The closer he came the thicker was the air around it. _It_ _is waiting... for something, someone!_ Reaching his hand towards it, it was like air was turning solid. When Loki was about to change tactic and use his magic, his hand was sucked forward, and it clamped on the handle like magnet to metal. A rush of excitement went through him. _It accepted me! Oh father, only this could have made my revenge more perfect..._

But when Loki tried to lift Mjölnir, it didn't budge. Loki pulled at it, grabbed with two hands, leaned back with the weight of his whole body, summoned his magic, cursed... it didn't move. Out of breath, Loki turned to look at Odin, who still stood unmoved, his face unreadable.

“I thought... it almost... Give me another chance!” Loki pleaded. He had to succeed!

“I am afraid the answer is no. At least, not before Thor has been give his fair chance,” Odin said. “But come, I have something else here that you will be interested in.”

Reluctantly Loki tore himself away from Mjölnir. As soon as he came to Odin's side, he saw what the King had meant. It stood right there in the end of the aisle, set on a stand.

The Casket of Ancient Winters.

How he had not noticed it when he entered had to be due to some trick played by Odin. He had wanted Loki to try lifting the Mjölnir first, but to what end, Loki couldn't figure out yet.

“This is the guardian of the Vault, the Destroyer.” Odin waved his hand, and the grid wall behind the Casket dissipated and behind it was a creature taller than the tallest Jotun. It was armoured from head to toe, and then it lifted its faceguard to reveal the inferno inside it. Loki flinched backwards. With another wave of his hand Odin made the wall return.

“I think you get the point,” Odin said, and Loki was sure he could hear self-satisfaction in his voice. “Now, if you wish, you may touch the Casket.”

Infuriated that he was allowed to approach his people's most sacred object, but threatened not to even try and reclaim it, Loki had to collect himself so he wouldn't just outright attack Odin. It would have been a suicide. Once he was sure he could control himself, Loki approached the Casket.

If the air around Mjölnir was thick with magic, the Casket was simply emanating something familiar yet utterly beyond Loki's experience. It was like being back home, but to a place he had never seen before. He could feel the cold radiating from it, crisp and clear and undeniable. He felt like he could finally _breath_.

Loki didn't even think about it, he just grabbed the handles of the Casket and lifted it just to feel its weight.

“That's enough.” Odin's voice came from somewhere far away. “Loki, set it down. If you try something foolish now, the Casket will stay here for a very long time. But it down, and we will talk about what can be done about returning it to your people.”

Loki lowered the Casket and for a moment he just looked at his hands, how they had returned back to normal. He knew the curse hadn't been broken, he still felt it claws in his soul. But they could be loosened and ripped away.

“What am I... to you?” Loki asked as he turned to look at Odin.

“A child, left to die on a frozen rock, one I didn't have the heart to save,” Odin said, bowing his head.

“You saw me in the Temple?” Loki felt his hands tremble and he had to ball them into fists to remain still. “Why didn't you do anything?”

“I had no hope for you.” Odin lifted his head again and aimed his one eye on Loki. “But you survived, and now you have given me hope! That I can see the Casket returned to Jotunheim in my lifetime.”

“You would return it?” Loki was suspicious and yet hopeful, caught in a turmoil of emotions.

“I never meant to take it away for ever,” Odin said. “Laufey had lost his mind, Jotunheim was in the hands of a war mongrel. I could have slain him, but with Farbauti missing, there wasn't anyone to take his place I trusted to be able to lead your people into peaceful future. So I took away your power, effectively sealing you in to your own world, to wait until someone suitable would make themselves known.”

“You sealed us in misery,” Loki commented.

“I did.” Odin agreed with a steady voice. “But it was a misery of your own making. What happened to you, it was all doing of your own kind.”

“How dare you avoid the blame?” Loki growled. The Casket was at his reach. Maybe he could deliver a deadly blow on Odin before the Destroyer or the guards could interfere. Odin was without his fearsome spear or protective armour. One strike, and even if Loki would for sure be dead for it, perhaps the word would reach his home some day, that it had been him who killed Odin the Allfather...

The doors opened, an Einherjar guard standing there. He hastily bowed to his King, bringing one knee to the floor.

“Your Majesty, a message from the Gatekeeper. A message was received from Jotunheim. Another request for an asylum, from one calling herself Gjalp of Utgård. Heimdall wants to know if you will allow it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honk if you like the thing where fic uses canon dialogue but in a canon divergent way!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... about that #minor character death... heads up! :(

This time there was no public spectacle. The throne room was closed off, only the royal family was there. Frigga had joined Odin right below the throne, and Loki was standing on the lower tier, on Thor's right hand side and beneath him. Of course, Einherjar soldiers flanked the room. It seemed almost excessive procedure for safety, dozens of soldiers against one Jotun. Were they afraid Gjap was there to join Loki in some scheme against Asgard? She had been rushed to the palace from Bifrost Observatory, and the streets of the city had been cleared from its residents before her. 

It had been one thing when Loki had arrived, unexpectedly and under Sif's protection. And as much as it galled him to admit it, his smaller stature and young age made him seem less threatening for the Aesir crowd. It was a whole different thing for a full grown adult Jotun to step on the streets of Asgard, especially one that had lived through the war between the Realms. It would have been possible for someone bearing an old grudge to attack Gjalp. Loki, knowing the resentment he felt for Asgardians and their beautiful city, wondered how it felt for Gjalp and if she had a score to settle herself.

Loki wanted to run to Gjalp's side and sink his face into her chest and cry like he had done as a small child. He wanted to be held by her and have her tell him it would be alright. But Gjalp was kneeling at the bottom of the stairs leading to Asgard's throne It wasn't the time or the place for Loki to show childish weakness.

“Thank you for allowing my arrival to Asgard, Odin Allfather,” Gjalp said with her head bowed. “I am sure, if I had stayed in Jotunheim I would have been killed. I have been unfairly found guilty of treason against Laufey, and he demands my head.”

“As the protector of the Nine Realms, it is my right and duty to extend that protection on you, Gjalp of Utgård,” Odin said. “Do tell, what kind of treason does Laufey accuse you of?”

“I have spoken against him and his oldest son, Helbindi as the ruler of Jotunheim,” Gjalp explained. “I am in favour of Loki Laufeyson to be the King of all Jotunheim, and I have rallied the chiefs and the hags of Jotunheim to accept his claim. This is true. But Laufey said it was treason to support a traitor for the throne. I was trialed without a chance to present my case, and found guilty. I saw no other chance-”

Glajp grunted and shuddered, her bow turning into a painful grouch. Drops of dark blood splattered on the golden floor.

“Damn, I thought I'd have more time...” Loki heard the whisper, right before Gjalp's eyes closed and she keeled over and fell with a loud thud.

 

 

They had found a bed large enough for Gjalp in the Healing Hall, and even closed off a room and got the air cool enough to be comfortable. Eir was wearing a fur coat as she worked on Gjalp, and the frown she wore was deep and troubled.

“I am sorry, but I truly know so little of you race,” she said. “Your wounds are not that deep... is it poison that is causing this, perhaps?”

“It might well be,” Gjalp said. “But we are a strong race! So I am sure a little rest in this nice coldness and some fresh meat will rejuvenate me in no time. Also, seeing a familiar face always brightens my day. Will you allow my little Loki to visit me?”

“Certainly. I won't be far away, though,” Eir said. She sent one of her assistants to get Loki, who soon arrived, more pale that usual.

“Gjalp! What did they do to you?”

“Nothing serious, at least compared to what's been done to you!” Gjalp sighed and traced one finger along where the line on Loki cheek would have been. “I nearly didn't know it was you...”

“Don't worry about it, I know how to undo it...” Loki flinched away from the cold touch. “And it might help you too, if you just tell me what it is!”

“Nothing, child, nothing!” Gjalp fanned at the air with her hand like trying to cool herself. Eir turned away just lightly to adjust the apparatus that cooled the air, and Gjalp's hand moved like a whip, shooting an ice bolt at Eir. The healer was hit in the head and she toppled over.

“Quick! Hide her and take her form, so we can speak!”

Knowing not to waste time when Gjalp had that tone, Loki dragged the unconscious Eir behind the large bad and threw an illusion on himself. It wasn't perfect, but it would do if no one came too close. He leaned over Gjalp, as if examining her. He now noticed the dark veins visible on her skin, and the feverish look in her eyes.

“Loki, I am so, so very sorry. I am dying. No, listen, I came here only to tell you this: your mother lives! Laufey is a monster, and my crime against him was to go deep into Jotunheim, find his secret hiding place under the Last Sea. I found Farbauti there, trapped in state of torpor.”

Gjalp had to stop to catch her breath when a tremor of pain caught her in its grasp, and Loki could only hold her shoulder and wait. She didn't have much time, and whatever she had to to tell was imperative.

“I knew. I knew when Helblindi unleashed the cataclysm. Laufey never had that power, and neither did Helblindi. Although I always suspected that you might... but Laufey needed Farbauti for that. So the Queen had to be alive.”

“How?” Loki whispered. His mother had supposedly died delivering him, the runt that took their life.

“...connected to Jotunheim's energy...” Gjalp whispered. “Laufey had traps... I was hit with a deadly curse. My insides...”

Gjalp lifted the hand she had been grasping her midsection with. The skin was now black and looked like it was slowly turning into liquid.

“I used my last strength to stay alive and get here. Rest is up to you, Loki.”

A small sound made them both look up. Gjalp's hand rose feebly to throw her last ice bolt, but then she smiled.

“It's you, little flame. Thank the Norns for guiding you here...” Gjalp gestured at Sif to come closer. The girl looked at Loki with confusion, but when she came close she saw the unconscious Eir on the floor, realising she was seeing Loki in disguise.

“She's fine,” Loki assured her.

“Little flame...” Gjalp's voice was now a whisper. “Please keep your promise... Loki, you must return to Jotunheim. Find your mother. Save Jotunheim. It has to be you...”

Those were Gjalp's last words. The sickly black stain had spread across her chest and reached her throat, and she made a chocking sound. Loki's hands moved to her throat and he tried to summon some magic that could fight back the curse. But it was as much help as trying to rid himself of his own curse, and when the black reached Gjalp's eyes, she was already dead.

 

 

“What do we do?” Sif asked.

Loki stared at the blackened body of the woman who had been almost like a mother to him. One day, Gjalp would have inherited her father's title and become the hag of Utgård. She would have made a great leader. Now she would be nothing but a dead Jotun in Asgard.

Only one who could give any meaning to her sacrifice was Loki.

“ _I'm_ going back to Jotunheim. I don't know what you mean by _we_.” Loki got up.

“I have a promise to keep and that is to protect you,” Sif said, coming to stop Loki. “I remember that now. I can't let you go... alone.”

“Protect me? How could you do that?” Loki scoffed.

“I nearly killed Helblindi once. I think it's time I finish the job,” Sif said, lifting her chin in defiance.

Loki had meant how could she leave her home, betray her friends and her King for him, and risk her life for his sake. Apparently, none of that had even crossed Sif's mind. She always did what was the right thing, and for her, it was helping and protecting Loki.

World had taken everything from Loki, expect her. He still had Sif.

And they would have to move fast, before people came asking for Eir to report on Gjalp's status.

“Come,” Loki said and this time he threw the illusion of Eir on Sif. “We need to get out without suspicion. Just say nothing. Eir doesn't explain herself.”

“Right,” Sif agreed and assumed a rather good impression of Eir's ''busier than you'' posture.

They sailed right past the healers and guards and out of the Healing Rooms. Once out Loki released Sif from the illusion and put one on himself, now turning into the female version of himself.

“To your rooms. We need to get warm clothes and your sword,” Loki whispered.

Once they had those and Sif's climbing gear the palace was already on buzzing. People were on the hunt for Loki, and on couple occasion Sif was stopped and told to keep an eye out for him.

“I definitely will,” she assured, and hurried after Loki who was moving fast with her head down.

They got the stables and saddled Sif's horse.

“Norns' tits, at least give yourself blond hair or someone will figure it out,” Sif hissed as she helped Loki up to sit behind her. They reached the gate before the orders to check people leaving had been given, and the guards had no reason to stop Lady Sif from taking a friend out for a ride. 

Then it was a wild ride out of the city and to the mountains. The cave was still there, the secret way to Jotunheim. If they moved quick enough, they had the chance to make it there before anyone else. Last leg of the journey had to be made on foot, and Sif released her horse, knowing it would make its way back.

“There's the cave mouth, now we just-”

“Turn around and go back.” It was Thor, leaning into a large tree trunk behind them, his hands lazily resting on Jarnborn's pommel. “Now, before anyone does anything stupid.”

“Thor.” Sif held her hands up in front of her. “You know I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't know it was the right thing to do.”

“There's the right thing to do, and the _right_ thing to do,” Thor replied. “A King must make hard decisions. Sometimes, he must stop a friend from doing something valiant and stupid.”

“Oh, who's talking about stupid-” Loki begun but Sif waived him to be quiet.

“You can stop me,” she said. “You can become the King your father wants you to be. Or...” Sif walked over to Thor who straightened up and moved Jarnborn into his right hand. Sif just walked right up to him and placed her hand on Thor's shoulders, looking up to him. “You can become the King I know you can be. The best King Asgard has ever had.”

Their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity. Then Thor's hand rose to pat Sif's hand resting on his shoulder.

“Aye, Lady Sif. Your counsel is wise. I should follow _my_ heart, not my Father's,” he said.

Sif smiled at him. “Don't let him chew you up too bad for this. I'll take the blame when I come back.”

“Brother!” Thor turned to Loki. “Make sure she does come back. No excuses!”

“I will. Brother,” Loki said the word without sarcasm or hidden malice, perhaps for the first time. “And... Mjölnir, it's waiting. For you, I think.”

“Wait, how do you know that?” Thor frowned, but then ushered the two towards the cave mouth. “Go-go-go! The You-know-what-keeper told me to come here and call him when I spot you two, so move it before he gets suspicious and takes a look!”

Sif went first, knowing the way. Loki followed, and into the dark, cold depth they went.

 

 

Heimdall watched as Sif and Loki disappeared from his sight as the pathway between Realms took them away. This time he knew where they would go, but he didn't look. It would be easier that way to answer Odin truthfully now that he was striding into the Observatory.

“Where is Thor? And where is Loki?” Odin demanded to know.

“I sent the Prince to guard the entrance to the ice cave, in case Loki would try to find his way home through there,” Heimdall said.

“How would he find that without... Ah, Lady Sif,” Odin sighed irritatedly. “I underestimated his hold on her. And where are they?”

“I wish I could say,” Heimdall replied. “Do I continue the search, or is there anything else I should be looking for?”

“Comb Asgard the best you can,” Odin gave his order. “Thor will keep them from going through the cave, and they can't stumble on another gateway on blind luck. I must go back to try and salvage the situation.”

“As you wish.” Heimdall bowed. As ordered, he didn't turn his gaze to the icy plains of Jotunheim where two small creatures huddled against each other and slowly walked forward, pressing against the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! 
> 
> Heart-felt thank you to Eienvine for all the sweet and funny comments!
> 
> Please stay tuned for the next part of the story, coming soon!


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